


Team Santa Machine

by HufflepuffLovesPizza, T_Ninja



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Humor, holiday fluff, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:57:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8900386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HufflepuffLovesPizza/pseuds/HufflepuffLovesPizza, https://archiveofourown.org/users/T_Ninja/pseuds/T_Ninja
Summary: Team Machine works some numbers through the holiday season...and may even get a few Christmas surprises of their own.





	1. Christmas Mayhem at the Mall

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays, Shoot shippers! We hope you enjoy this joint holiday offering. 
> 
> Thanks to the ever lovely Hufflepufflovespizza for suggesting a collaboration and for the constant support.

“Ho Ho Ho! And what would you like for Christmas, little fella?” Fusco asked through a faux white beard as a little boy was being lowered onto his lap. The toddler craned his neck around, gave Fusco a suspicious glare, and immediately started bawling.

“No Santa!” the toddler wailed, balling his hands into tiny fists and waving them around frantically.

“Awwww come on, little guy. Just one smile for the photographer lady?” Fusco pleaded with the boy.

The toddler vigorously shook his head. “No Santa!” he screamed, tears still streaming down his face.

Fusco looked up and over at Mrs. Claus across the way. “A little help here, sweetums?”

Wearing a red frock with a wig of curly white hair, Shaw glared at Fusco over the top of her fake spectacles. “Sorry Lionel, you’re on your own. John’s gotta wear that ridiculous mall cop outfit and mustache to break into the employee file room and I have to hand out candy canes to kids wearing-” she gestured to her costume- “whatever the hell this is. So you have to suck it up and take one for the team. We all have to do what it takes to find the number.”

Fusco humphed. “But why do I have to be Santa?”

“No Santa!” the toddler hollered again, grabbing onto Fusco’s fake beard and nearly pulling it off his face.

Shaw snorted. “Even the kid can see through that ridiculous getup.” She turned to the toddler. “Right, kid?”

At Shaw’s question, the toddler stopped fussing and looked up curiously at her. A wide grin broke across his face and he reached both arms out towards her. “Up!” he giggled.

Shaw stared at the kid, not knowing what to do. “I…uh…”

“Up!” the boy called again, stretching out towards Shaw and nearly tumbling off Fusco’s lap. With her ninja reflexes, Shaw dove in to catch him and then held him out in front of her at arm’s length as if he were a ticking time bomb. The toddler motioned towards the camera. “Pitcher!”

“Awwww, he wants to have his picture taken with you!” the photographer cooed.

Fusco immediately scrambled up from his chair and guided Shaw to sit down with the boy. “Gotta take one for the team,” he repeated her own words back to her and winked. Shaw glared at Fusco as he backed away, leaving her sitting on the chair with the little boy on her lap. If looks could kill, Fusco would have been dead twenty times over.

“Okay, now everybody smile!” the photographer called to Shaw and the boy. Shaw gritted her teeth into what she thought would pass for a smile, but actually turned out to be more of a grimace.

After the flash went off, Shaw immediately stood up with the toddler and handed him back to his parents who were standing to the side. The boy wrapped his tiny arms around Shaw’s neck and gave her a tight hug before turning back to his parents.

“Wow, the Mrs. Claus this year is really good with kids!” the boy’s mother said to her husband as they walked away.

Shaw gave a low growl and stomped back over to her position standing beside the photographer.

“Next person, come on up!” the photographer waved over the person standing at the front of the line.

As the woman walked past Shaw and up towards Fusco, Shaw noticed that the woman was wearing a security guard uniform. Shaw concluded that she must be working security at the mall and on her break.

At least it’s not another kid this time, Shaw thought to herself as she picked a candy cane from the basket by her feet, unwrapping it and popping it into her mouth.

“No offense Santa, but I would also prefer to sit on Mrs. Claus’ lap.” Shaw heard a very familiar voice say.

Shaw whipped her head up and found herself locking eyes with none other than Root. Her jaw dropped open as she regarded Root in her security guard uniform. The candy cane slipped out of her mouth, but Shaw quickly caught it before it hit the floor. Ninja reflexes.

Root waved her fingers in her direction, and Shaw stomped over.

“Okay, this day job thing…not really working out,” Shaw said, gesturing to her own costume.

“Sorry Sam, the Machine needs you here to keep an eye out for the number. But for what it’s worth, I really like the new look,” Root said as she gave her trademark non-wink and lustily stared up and down Shaw’s body.

“Really? The white hair and frumpy dress are doing it for you? You’re such a nerd freak,” Shaw said in a low growl for only Root to hear.

“Don’t forget the fake spectacles,” Root cooed at Shaw while placing her hands on her hips and very subtly licking her lips with a bite. 

“Hey ladies - enough with the flirting already,” Fusco interjected. “Now are you gonna take a picture or what? There’s a huge lineup that we have to get through before I can go take my lunch break.”

Root looked at Shaw and tilted her head. “Looks like we’re going to have to take that picture, sweetie. Don’t want to hold up the line.” Shaw gave a massive eye roll. 

Lionel stood up and gestured towards Santa’s chair. “Be my guest.”

Shaw grumpily plopped down onto the chair and Root planted herself right on top of Shaw’s lap, wrapping her arms around her neck.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I’ve been naughty or nice?” Root whispered into Shaw’s ear, causing a shiver to travel up and down her spine.

“Not now, Root,” Shaw said through gritted teeth. “There are kids around.”

“They’re not within earshot,” Root pointed out.

“Okay, big smiles!” the photographer called towards them.

“Well, let’s just say I’ve been naughty,” Root whispered hotly in Shaw’s ear before turning her head and beaming into the camera. Shaw recovered just in time to give another one of her grimace/smiles right before the flash went off.

“Thanks, Mrs. Claus,” Root scrunched up her nose adoringly at Shaw as she climbed off her lap. She leaned in again so that her mouth was right at Shaw’s ear. “Meet me in Santa’s workshop in two minutes,” she whispered and then pulled away, plucking the candy cane out of Shaw’s hand and popping it into her own mouth. Shaw stared wordlessly after Root as she strutted away.

“Shaw, can you hear me?” John’s voice crackled through the comms. “Are you there?”

“Huh? Yes, I’m here. How’s it looking, John?” asked a slightly distracted Shaw. 

“I’m in the filing room and I have the employee file. Looks like our number used to work at this mall as a security guard before getting fired two weeks ago. I sent Harold to the last known address listed on his employee file.”

Harold’s voice suddenly addressed everyone over the comms, “I’ve successfully entered Mr. Drake’s residence,” he confirmed. “From what I can see here, it appears that he’s planning on setting off a homemade bomb at the mall.”

“Looks like Paul Blart wanted to send a message to his former employers by setting off a bomb in the mall right in the middle of Christmas season.” Shaw predicted. “What a Grade A douche.”

“There are surveillance cameras everywhere, so the Machine should be able spot him easily if he’s here. Although, he does know his way around the mall, so I’ll have to go check all the blind spots. I’ll let you know if I find anything,” Reese said through the comms then went silent. 

“Roger that,” Shaw confirmed. She looked back up at the line of children waiting to see Santa. “I’m taking my break now, Lionel. Try to hold down the fort while I’m gone.” She patted Fusco on the back and handed her basket of candy canes to one of the elves nearby. “Be back in thirty.”

“Try not to eat up the whole food court, will ya?” Fusco called after her. “Leave some food for me.”

Shaw rolled her eyes and walked around the back of the structure built to look like Santa’s workshop where the props and costumes were kept. 

******

Shaw opened the door to the Santa hut and looked around the small room. She pulled the door close and turned around to lock it. As soon as the lock clicked into place, Shaw found herself roughly pressed up against the door, the heat from a warm body pressed firmly against her back. Root. 

“Why hello there, Mrs. Claus,” Root purred into Shaw’s ear, the smirk evident in her voice even though Shaw couldn't see it. 

Shaw pushed herself away from the door, causing Root to stumble back a couple of steps. She turned around to take a look at the hacker, still in her security guard uniform. Damn, she looked good. 

“Do you like what you see Sameen?” Root teased, obviously noticing the look of desire in Shaw’s eyes. 

“It's not a bad look on you,” Shaw admitted, wriggling out of her itchy polyester dress. “Did they give you handcuffs?”

Root reached behind her and pulled out a set of handcuffs, jingling them in front of Shaw. “Sure did,” she drawled. 

As soon as she was free of the Mrs. Claus costume, Shaw quickly stepped forward to close the distance between them, grabbing the back of Root’s neck and pulling her down to connect their lips. Shaw could taste the lingering peppermint on Root’s lips from the candy cane that she had earlier. Shaw parted her lips and darted her tongue out to lick at the sweet flavour on Root’s bottom lip, causing the hacker to open her own mouth and meet Shaw’s tongue with her own. Root moaned into the kiss and allowed Shaw to push her backwards until she was pressed up with her back against the wall.

Shaw kissed a trail up Root's jaw and toward her ear. “Let's make use of those handcuffs, shall we?” she murmured.

Root smirked. “My thoughts exactly.”

There was a faint clicking sound and Shaw suddenly found herself flipped and pressed up against the wall with the handcuffs dangling from her right wrist. She raised an eyebrow at Root and lifted her other hand in the air. “Correct me if I'm wrong - and I know I'm not wrong - but aren't you supposed to cuff both hands?”

Root stepped back and tilted her head patronizingly at Shaw. “Don't worry, sweetie, we’re getting there.”

Just as Root finished talking, Shaw noticed that her bra was unusually loose. The straps slipped from her shoulders and dropped to the floor by her feet. Apparently, Root had stealthily unhooked her bra before she slapped the handcuffs on her wrist. Touché.

The hacker smirked and stepped closer to Shaw again, reaching down to take both of Shaw’s wrists in her hands and pushing them behind Shaw’s back. There was barely any space between them now as Shaw heard the familiar click and felt the cold steel wrap around her other wrist. 

Root looked down adoringly at her and grinned. “Better?”

Shaw nodded wordlessly, not trusting herself to speak. Root smelled like mint and coconut shampoo and gunpowder all at once, and it was increasingly difficult for Shaw to think straight with the hacker invading all of her senses. 

Root trailed her index finger down Shaw’s tensed abs and hooked it into the top of her panties. “Now, Sameen - I'm going to need you to be very quiet,” she whispered, tugging playfully at the fabric. “We can't get caught - understood?”

Shaw gulped and nodded again. Apparently words fail her when hot, naughty hackers are around. 

Root sunk slowly onto her knees in front of Shaw, pulling Shaw’s panties down and helping her step out of them. Root nudged Shaw’s leg apart slightly and gently pushed her back so that she was leaning most of her weight against the wall. Shaw bit back a gasp as Root’s tongue made contact with her slick center, arching her back off the wall at the pleasurable sensation. She could feel Root’s smirk as the hacker circled her clit slowly with her tongue before closing her lips over the sensitive bundle of nerves and sucking gently. 

“Fuuuuuuuuucccc-” Shaw started to moan before biting down on her bottom lip to cut herself off. 

Root immediately stilled her movements to try and listen for any sign that they were heard. All they could hear from outside the hut were indistinct noises and Fusco’s forced “Ho Ho Ho!” every once in awhile. Deeming it safe, Root turned her attention back to Shaw’s aching center and continued her ministrations excruciatingly slowly, teasing Shaw’s clit with her tongue just enough to make Shaw wriggle against the wall, but not nearly enough to let her come. 

Fuck. It was as if Root was purposefully trying to coax Shaw into making some noise. Shaw bit down harder on her bottom lip, spreading her fingers and placing her palms flat against the wall behind her. She pushed against the wall into Root’s mouth to urge her into speeding up, but Root responded by barring her arm across Shaw’s waist and pressing her back against the wall. Shaw huffed in frustration and glared down at Root, whose eyes were twinkling with mischief. 

“Do you want to come, sweetie?” Root whispered hotly against Shaw between the teasing strokes of her tongue.

Shaw pointedly raised an eyebrow at Root to indicate that yes, obviously she would like to come now. 

Root chuckled quietly and pulled back a little, causing Shaw to almost whimper at the loss of contact. Root lifted up one of Shaw’s legs and draped it over her shoulder, opening her up to Root's mouth. Deciding that she had teased Shaw enough, Root took Shaw’s clit back into her mouth and sucked rhythmically, brushing her tongue over the tip with firm strokes. The pressure in Shaw’s lower belly reached a fevered pitch and Shaw bit back a moan as she came, the warm feeling of release flooding over her. Root continued stroking her with her tongue, gentling her through her orgasm until she slumped back against the wall. 

After a moment, Root lifted Shaw’s leg off her shoulder and set it back down on the floor. She pulled out the cuff key from her back pocket to uncuff Shaw. As soon as the metal links fell to the ground, Shaw grabbed Root by the tie on her uniform, pulling her in and crashing their mouths together, moaning when she tasted herself on Root's tongue. Within seconds, she had Root’s pants off and her panties around her ankles. Root quickly stepped out of her panties and pushed back up against Shaw, straddling Shaw’s muscular thigh and circling Shaw’s entrance with her fingers. 

“One more for me, Sameen,” she whispered as she pushed two fingers in, feeling the silky walls clench pleasurably around her. Root started thrusting as she grinded herself against Shaw’s thigh, her arousal spreading and providing just the right amount of lubrication as her clit slid against the smooth skin. 

Root increased her speed, fingers moving in time with the thrust of her hips, and she felt Shaw bite down on the muscle of her shoulder to stifle a moan as she came, clenching tightly around Root’s fingers. The jolt of pain from the bite pushed Root over the edge, and she continued pumping her hips against Shaw as she rode out her own orgasm. 

They're slumped together against the wall for a few blissful moments, waiting for their breathing and heartbeats to go back to normal. 

“Shit,” Shaw said, pushing off the wall, “I have to get back to work. It's been almost half an hour.”

Shaw was completely perplexed that she didn’t see her discarded Mrs. Claus outfit on the floor of the Santa hut. How had Root been able to snatch it without her seeing? 

“Root!” Shaw yelled as quietly as she could, “What did you do with my silly ass outfit?” The little cramped Santa hut reeked of sex now, which did make Shaw smirk while she was still angry because she knew Root must have swiped her costume when she looked away briefly.

“Here it is,” Root handed over an elf costume to Shaw holding down a giggle. 

“No, no way,” Shaw scowled and seethed at the hacker. “Give me Mrs. Claus back now.”

“Thought I would give Mrs. Claus a go and torture Fusco a bit.”

“Then I’ll be the mall cop,” Shaw demanded.

“Doesn’t work that way Sam, you have to stay in the North Pole village,” said Root as she pulled on the Mrs. Claus dress. 

“Mrs. Claus where are you?” asked an impatient Fusco over the comms, “We’ve got a ton of antsy kids and they are getting more fussy by the second.”

Shaw started getting dressed in the elf costume very begrudgingly, “You know payback is going to sting,” she growled out to Root as she pulled on striped long socks along with the candy cane striped shirt. She didn’t even want to think about the jingle bell shoes and hat. 

“I’m counting on it,” Root beamed back at her, she crawled over on her knees and helped in a non-helping way to get Shaw dressed, her hands were swatted away immediately.

Shaw finished dressing first and exited the Santa hut discreetly. Going over to where Fusco was talking to a kid on his lap, “Ho Ho Ho, okay Tony, I’ll see what I can do about making your house a Pokestop,” the kid jumped off his lap and ran to his parents. “Some of these kids have weird wishes. What happened to football? Barbie house?” Fusco looked over at Shaw in her elf costume with a confused look on his face. “Did you divorce me already Maybelline?”

“She did and you remarried very quickly,” Root said while approaching her two teammates dressed as Mrs. Claus, somehow the outfit fitting perfectly despite the height difference in the women. Although ,the hem of the dress was considerably higher on Root, giving Shaw a nice eyeful of the long, slender legs. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” Fusco made a confused face with a groan, “Coco Puffs, no offense but you might not be the best influence on the children of the world with your criminal record.”

“True, I already hacked into the mall database and got what I needed,” Shaw and Fusco looked at Root confused, “Different mission, nevermind.” 

Shaw was summoned to get to back by the head elf so she went over and lead a new kid to Santa’s chair. The child looked up at her shyly then grabbed her hand, Shaw rolled her eyes then lifted the kid up onto Santa Fusco’s lap, the kid wouldn’t let go of her hand so she had to stand close to Fusco. 

Suddenly, off on the opposite side of the mall, a man was running and pushing through the crowds of shoppers. 

“The perp is on the run, carrying a wrapped present which is believed to be the bomb. I’m chasing after him, down the mall...uh...towards Bloomies,” Reese said through the comms. 

All three teammates looked up to see the man running through the mall and then Reese chasing after him on a Segway dressed as a mall cop with a fake mustache.

“Reese only marginally makes that look better,” Shaw said in her most snarky tone then took off jumping over one little kid in the way, much to the horror of his parents, and bounding over roped off areas of the North Pole village only knocking down two snowmen and a few small Christmas trees in the process, the faint sound of jingling bells following her as she sprinted away wearing those goddamn elf shoes and hat. 

Root hiked up her Mrs. Claus dress the rest of the way and chased after them as well. Fusco was left stuck in the chair with a little kid in his lap. 

To say shoppers were a little confused to see an elf and Mrs. Claus chasing after a mustachioed mall cop riding a Segway speeding after another man trying to run as fast as he could while holding a large wrapped present was a slight understatement. 

Shaw ran so fast she quickly caught up with Reese riding the Segway and passed him. Soon after Root caught up and passed the tall male primary asset as well. 

“Love the ride John,” Root said as she passed him by and continued on to chase after Elf Shaw and the perpetrator. 

Root caught up to Shaw just as the badass primary asset jumped on top of Christmas angel display, using the new height vantage to launch herself and crash-land on the perpetrator, knocking his present to the ground and sending it skidding across the floor. She climbed off of the perp and when he got up to try to run away, she threw several punches and then kicked him hard, causing him to stumble backwards and knock down a massive tower display of fake presents, spewing boxes in every direction, making a huge mess and mixing the package containing the bomb with the the other brightly wrapped packages. Root immediately ran over and started looking for the bomb present. Shaw quickly zip tied the perp to a bolted chair in the middle of the mall, then went over to help Root find the bomb. 

A crowd of curious shoppers had gathered to watch the fight and now intrigued with Mrs. Claus and an elf rummaging through tons of presumably empty boxes. The crowd had let out loud cheers when the angry elf beat up the guy. 

Fusco came riding up on his own Segway painted red. “Ho Ho Ho! Good job my little elf!” The crowd then cheered and clapped for Santa, who then pointed to his elf and Mrs. Claus who were still too busy trying to find bomb present. He was followed by Reese who jumped off his Segway and ran over to check on the perpetrator. 

“Wow! Santa saved the mall!” one little kid shouted from the crowd with more cheering and clapping. 

Root and Shaw carefully and quickly went through dozens of boxes until they found a slightly heavier box, which must have been the bomb present. They both hastily unwrapped it and looked inside. Thankfully, there wasn’t a timer; they just needed to dismantle it quickly before anything could happen. After talking to each other in hush tones as to not upset all the bystanders, both women looked up to see the crowd staring at them. 

Suddenly, a familiar voice came over the loudspeakers, “Attention all shoppers, ladies and gentlemen. We hope you have enjoyed our production of Christmas Mayhem an exclusive action show starring Santa, Mrs. Claus and their elves...Oh, and Paul our mall security officer.” It was Harold’s voice. He had hacked into the mall’s speaker system to do some damage control. His teammates looked up and wondered where he was located. “Join us four times a day for different productions starring your favorite holiday characters.” Harold continued. “Next up, Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph have a sing off.” The announcement ended and the crowd starting dispersing. Root walked away quickly, something having caught her eye. Fusco and Reese walked up to Shaw. 

“I’m going to take the bomb and disarm it completely. AND burn this costume,” Shaw said while taking off her pointy jingle bell hat and throwing it to the ground. 

“I don’t know Shaw, I think angry elf really suits you,” Reese smirked through his horrible, crooked fake mustache. 

Root walked back up carrying four corn dogs on sticks. She handed one to Shaw who held the bomb in one hand and devoured the corn dog with the other hand. Fusco reached for a corn dog and Root pulled it away from him, “These are for Shaw.”

“You’ve got four corn dogs there, Nutella,” Fusco made an exasperated face. 

“Lionel, she chased down the bad guy, she’s disarming a bomb. She deserves all the fried treats,” Root said while adoringly looking at Shaw who was only concentrated on her corn dog. Plus, she wanted to add she worked up another appetite in the Santa hut a few minutes ago. 

“No mustard?” 

Root held three corn dogs in one hand while applying mustard to Shaw’s corn dog. Reese and Fusco looked on at the two women and shook their heads. 

“You know this is favoritism. I’m telling Glasses,” Fusco walked back over to his red Segway, “I’m going to the food court.” Reese smiled and followed after him on his Segway. 

Root put mustard on the rest of the corn dogs for Shaw, who kept eating until there was only one left. 

“You can have the last one,” Shaw told Root through a mouthful of food.

Root looked over to her crush and saw mustard smeared across her upper lip. She then lightly pushed Shaw down a deserted service corridor, being careful of the bomb of course. There was an empty doorway out of sight from the mall. 

“You’ve got mustard smeared on your lip,” Root said as she leaned in, sticking out her tongue and licking the mustard away on Shaw’s lip. This action of course led to Shaw leaning up and capturing Root’s tongue in her mouth, where she sucked on it briefly before hearing someone yell out, ‘Whoa! Mrs. Claus is doing an elf!’ 

A young teen guy walked through the corridor, possibly ending a shift at one of the many kitschy kiosks; he did a double take when he saw Mrs Claus making out with one of her elves. His jaw dropped to the floor. 

Root looked over to him, "Santa and I are in an open relationship,” she replied in her most charming, seductive tone to the teenager. 

"Root, stop scaring children and adults," Shaw said to Root, then added just to herself in a mumbled whisper, "and you better not be in an open relationship with Santa. Or anyone else, for that matter." 

Root tilted her head down and hid a huge grin, she was certain she wasn't meant to hear Shaw's added remark. She was pretty sure it was a gut reaction comment not meant for audible consumption, especially in her one good ear.

Root got a far off look on her face while eating the last corn dog, actually smearing mustard on her lips as well. “Well, hello there,” she said out loud but Shaw knew it was the Machine. “On my way.” Root then turned back to look into Shaw’s eyes, still highly amused at seeing Shaw dressed as an elf. 

Shaw leaned over and licked the mustard off Root’s lip, then slipped her tongue inside the hacker’s mouth to make sure there isn’t more traces of mustard. When she pulled away they were both a little breathless. 

“Where are you going?”

“It’s something for Her. Well, it was actually my idea and she’s helping me this time,” Root had a thoughtful look on her face. 

“That sounds both vague and dangerous,” Shaw stared Root down in hopes she would reveal her mission, still holding the bomb present close to her chest. 

“Make sure Lionel finishes his shift as Santa - their back up got sick. Don’t want to disappoint all those kids,” Root smiled, then headed further down the corridor that lead to the outside doors. She turned back a few times to smirk at Shaw and to watch her elf walk back out into the main mall walkway. 

Suddenly, Finch’s voice came over the comms. “Mr. Reese? Ms. Shaw? Santa..ahem...Detective Fusco? There’s a new number that needs our urgent attention. This is going to be a very busy Christmas Eve.”


	2. Cuddle Peep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s still Christmas in our time zones – so Happy Holidays! :-) 
> 
> I’m so thankful and grateful the lovely, completely awesome, badass T_Ninja agreed to share her talent, time and brilliant mind to collaborate on a story. She’s the best!

Six hours earlier...before Christmas Mayhem at the Mall...

Shaw flopped into her bed with sore feet and was pretty sure that she had gum in her hair from some annoying little kid monster. She, Fusco and Reese had spent all day at a mall looking for a perpetrator with no success so they will have to go back again tomorrow morning; epic eye roll. Even though Root has been out of state - and possibly out of the country - Shaw felt that her cover was somehow orchestrated by the mischievous hacker. She felt more fatigue in her body than she predicted; working a long shift of saving lives did sometimes take its toll, especially if it involved wearing silly ass costumes and picking up heaps of wiggly, smelly little kids and placing them in Fusco’s jolly arms as a fake Santa Claus. Thinking of Root sometimes tired her out, too. She hadn’t seen the hacker in about two weeks while Root had been on solo Machine missions. Shaw felt like she needed her own solo action mission with Root very soon. She was pissed that Root was gone doing something else by the Machine. Ever since she and Root started doing whatever they were doing she was beginning to feel like Root’s side piece in regards to the robot overlord. She had never broken her three-night rule for anyone before, and now she was getting angrier that Root wasn’t around. And it was Christmas time. No, wait, she thought, it’s not because of some over commercialized forced holiday. No, it’s not like she wanted to snuggle up to Root with chestnuts roasting on an open fire or build snowmen, then name them...nope. No, Shaw shook her head vigorously. Okay, maybe a little pride and ego were mixed in as well. Or maybe she was just, for lack of a classier word, horny for a tall, brunette insatiable hacker that invaded her thoughts just like she invaded her personal space all the freakin time. She didn’t want to admit she was finally drifting off to sleep while thinking of one of their last encounters. Maybe some sex dreams would help take the edge off. She could hear Bear softly snoring across the room in his dog bed.

Hours later, with a slight bluish hue coming from the windows indicating that dawn was approaching. Shaw’s face felt really itchy. In her state of deep sleep she couldn’t tell if her face was in fact itchy or if it was her dream face that was itchy. Her hand shot up and grabbed a wrist that was hovering over her. The wrist belonged to a hand that was stupidly dangling tinsel over her face, touching down and grazing every other second. Shaw opened her eyes and was greeted with Root leaning over her with a huge grin.

Root couldn’t believe she was watching Sameen sleep, she had missed her petite firecracker so much these past two weeks; especially since in the last few months she had sort of landed her in a way of sorts. She knew their arrangement was new territory for Shaw, so Root tried to give her space and agreed what they did was only their business - no sharing with the boys. She wondered if Sameen had missed her; she got clues from the Machine that perhaps she did. Root did have a somewhat good reason for being gone. Aside from working missions for the Machine, she was actually orchestrating something she thought was going to be even more epic than her FBI trojan horse of 2009. If her idea worked, it would be more exciting than a null worm. She couldn’t take the temptation any longer, even though it was barely morning yet; she wanted to talk to Sameen. Well, okay she wanted to do more than talk. 

Root quietly walked over to the edge of the bed, leaned over Sameen and started tickling the petite primary asset’s face with tinsel. She had to hold down a giggle watching Shaw’s face slowly come to life and figure out where the annoying feeling was coming from, probably very much like Shaw’s overall view of Root. 

“Root, what the hell are you doing?” asked Shaw as her hand shot out from under the covers and grabbed a tight hold on Root’s wrist.

“Tickling your face with tinsel. What does it look like I’m doing?” Root continued to grin at Shaw who shook her head and scowled back at her. “Do you want me to tickle you somewhere else with tinsel?” Root moved her arm lower to hover over Shaw’s nether regions.

Shaw still had a hard grip on Root’s wrist, in one extremely swift and strong burst of a move; the petite primary asset grabbed the hacker and had her flipped over on the bed and encased her in a hybrid of a tight bear hug and un-escapable spoon hostage situation. Shaw buried her head in Root’s hair and moved somewhat rhythmically against the tall hacker’s body. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Root said smugly wishing her legs weren’t trapped by sheets and blanket. As much as she loved the spooning, she knew Shaw was only doing this to prevent her hands from roaming everywhere; this was Shaw’s way of being a big clit tease. “Do you have morning bean?” Root struggled to get one of her hands free. “Because I could brew that for you.”

“It’s cold in here, you’re closer than the heating pad,” Shaw loosened her hold slightly to push Root on her back and lay her head down on the hacker’s chest, still trapping her wandering limbs.

“Did you miss me?”

“I miss orgasms.”

“We both know you’re pretty good on your own in that area, I do enjoy watching you do you…” Root pushed up with her body and struggled once again to get her arms free.

“Root…” Shaw lifted up head, pressed her nose against Root’s neck and inhaled; then placed some kisses knowing it would undo the hacker. Root responded immediately letting out a prolonged moan and severed whispered ‘Sameen’ proclamations. What Shaw never wanted Root to discover was that her moaning, her sometimes-colorful vocabulary, her sighing and especially her name mentioned, uttered, and screamed at all during their heated moments was nearly a complete undoing of sorts to her composure.

“Hmm, no put down or simile. You really did miss orgasms,” Root croaked out, Shaw kissing her neck interfered with her talking and thinking. “We did have some fun on our last mission.” The hacker smiled thinking of their last mission together a few weeks ago that left them alone for a few minutes in a bathroom during a crowded fundraiser where they were waiting to save their number. 

“In a tiny ass crapped smelly, gummy, sticky, bathroom stall for 90 seconds,” Shaw said while pulling the tinsel out of Root’s hand. “Not to mention, we had to be quiet.” Damn it Shaw thought, she hoped the hacker wouldn’t notice the slip.

“Sticky can be good sometimes,” Root said in a hopeful tone while she wiggled one arm free which immediately ran up and down Shaw’s back landing on her ass and slipped underneath a pair of black boy shorts.

“It wasn’t good enough, you’re been gone for weeks,” Shaw grabbed the other freed arm and started wrapping the tinsel around Root’s wrist.

“You don’t like being quiet do you, which I have to admit was kind of another hot surprise,” Root smirked while her hand squeezed and dug her fingernails into Shaw’s taunt, sculpted buttocks.

Damn it Shaw thought, of course Root would pick up on that one little detail. Shaw lifted up head and squinted her eyes at Root while she stared her down hard.

Root couldn’t help but beam out a high wattage smile at Shaw hovering over her, which did cause the petite primary asset to squirm and loosen her hold on the hacker overall. Root ran her hand through Shaw’s hair and stared up at her intensely. Shaw broke the eye contact because staring into Root’s eyes was at times like staring into the sun, uncomfortable and scorching. Shaw then stared down at Root’s lips momentarily before capturing with a full force kiss. Within seconds Root’s tongue was in her mouth which was great because it prevented the hacker from talking anymore. Shaw was surprised the hacker tasted like peppermint so early in the morning, it was as if she had been eating candy canes all night. Then she heard the sound of jingle jingle jingle coming from the living room of the apartment.

Shaw tore her lips very reluctantly from Root’s, she lifted up her head to see where the sound was coming from as the jingle jingle jingle got closer to the bedroom. Bear trotted into the bedroom with a Christmas bandana around his neck and a string of jingle bells.

“No…Root,” Shaw demanded as she sat up and looked over at Bear who didn’t seem to really mind his new Christmas wardrobe.

“He looks so festive, and you will always know where he is with the bells,” Root stared at Bear affectionately.

“Bear is a highly trained operative dog, he doesn’t do jingle bells. Take them off now,” Shaw barked louder than the dog, mainly because the canine wasn’t barking at all.

Root called Bear over to the bed and since the hacker was a terrible influence on the canine teammate he jumped up on the bed. Bear began licking Root’s face.

“You’ve broken him,” Shaw said as she nudged between Root and Bear, it would almost appear she was jealous of their special bond; again, this was on the list of things the petite primary asset would never admit. Period. Shaw then grabbed Root and started kissing her again. Root took this opportunity to push Shaw on her back and straddle her hips. 

Shaw then noticed light coming from the main room out of the corner of her eye, she pushed Root off her roughly and stood up on her knees to see a Christmas tree displayed on her table. The Christmas tree had tons of colored lights and ornaments shining along with a huge star on top.

“Root. What. The. Hell. Is that?” Shaw asked while pointing at the twinkling Christmas eyesore.

“I thought I’d put up a Christmas tree to ‘spruce’ up the place and make it a bit homier,” Root smiled warmly at Shaw who outwardly cringed at the pun. 

“It’s my place. I’ll decorate it or not decorate the way I want, and it’s just fine the way it is. And while we’re on the subject, you owe me a new lock. This one is barely functioning anymore after all the times you’ve picked it.” Shaw’s voice sounded angry and demanding, however her actions were going in the opposite direction as she pushed the hacker back down on the bed and started pulling off Root’s jeans.

“Well, Sweetie if I had a key, I wouldn’t have to pick it,” Root lifted up her hips to give Shaw better access. “Just trying to save you a lock,” Root looked up innocently even though they both knew what giving a key to Root would imply. 

Shaw turned her intense back to the now bare, impossibly long delicious legs of Root. She ran her hands up the full length until her hands reached the hacker’s underwear, then it happened. A Christmas song started playing. With a ninja like reflex, Shaw bounded off the bed and jumped into the living room to see where the song was coming from. She saw Bear on the floor with a stuffed animal of sorts where the now muffled song was playing from. It was definitely an annoying Christmas song, one that was a deadly earworm that would invade your brain for days at a time. And the most annoying fact of all, it was sung by chipmunks. 

“ROOT,” Shaw spouted angrily not knowing the hacker had followed behind her and was smiling warmly at Bear. “What the hell is that monstrosity?” Shaw yanked the annoying toy away from Bear who immediately looked up at her and whined. Bear actually begged for his silly ass toy back. Shaw looked at the toy in disgust. “Why are the three chipmunks melded together like conjoined triplets?”

“It’s cute,” Root leaned over and put her head on Shaw’s shoulder who shrugged it off. “One of my favorite Christmas songs, Alvin, Simon and Theodore was one of my favorite bands,” Root said with a dopey look on her face. 

“It’s demented,” Shaw gripped the toy too tightly and the song started to play again. The song could be heard on some miniscule speakers buried in the stuffing of the annoying toy. ‘Please, Christmas don’t be late’ piped out in the high pitch voices of the chipmunks; Shaw huffed and aggressively threw the toy across the room, hoping her blunt force throw would break the window and have the toy sailing out and bursting into flames. Bear ran as fast as he could to get the toy back in his clutches. Shaw rolled her eyes. “You’re going to pay for me having to listen to that song on incessant nauseating repeat.” Shaw scooped up Root in her arms, carried her back to the bedroom and dropped her on the bed. 

“Absolutely,” said Root with a pure joyful look on her face as she stared up adoringly at Shaw who leered at her with a primal glare and stance. 

Shaw squatted down at the end of the bed, she grabbed at Root’s ankles roughly and pulled her to the edge where the hacker wrapped her impossibly long legs Shaw’s torso. Root then sat up and launched her lips onto Shaw’s neck, biting her deftly and deeply. Shaw let out a deep, loud guttural moan then pushed Root back on the bed, unwrapped her legs and spread them far apart. 

Then Shaw’s phone started ringing. The sound of her phone ringing at this precise moment, was actually worse than hearing the chipmunk song. 

****** 

The team regrouped back at the subway after leaving the mall. Thankfully, for Fusco’s and the sake of the children at the shopping center, replacements were called in so Santa and his angry petite elf were sent home after their good deed. 

“We’ve gotten several numbers today. I think this holiday season has people acting more dangerously impulsive and illogical. Unfortunately, every number has the potential to cause many fatalities such as the mall bomber, therefore I would strongly suggest that all three of your assistance is required,” Finch said while looking up at his screens, then standing and retrieving some bags from the other side of the subway car. 

“Why can’t Root help?” asked Reese as he checked his arsenal and made sure everything was ready and loaded. 

“Ms. Groves is busy, the Machine has informed me. Occupied with something clouded in worrisome mystery,” Finch replied while handing Reese, Fusco and Shaw a bag; each bag contained clothes for a new cover. 

All three looked at him curiously and very cautiously, hoping not to be elves or other residents of the North Pole. They pulled out the clothes and two teammates groaned loudly and sighed. 

“Finch, you can’t be serious? How are we ever going to pass as Christmas carol singers?” asked a deadpan Reese. 

“You probably won’t actually have to sing, the covers will give you access and let you watch over our number. There could be more potential casualties if the threat isn’t neutralized as was the case with the mall bomber. The target is a warehouse of employees who are filling orders in the last hours before Christmas,” Finch elaborated as he limped back to his desk. “However, just to be careful...I would brush up on some classics, perhaps ‘Let It Snow’.” 

“This is the worst time of the year,” growled Shaw as she pulled everything out of her bag, “Harold - hats too?” The petite teammate glared at the man in glasses sitting at his desk. 

“Ms. Shaw it’s the full classic ensemble; hats are part of the tradition,” Finch said carefully as his female teammate shot him death stares. 

“C’mon Shortcakes, this could be fun. We could sing Rudolph or Frosty,” Fusco said gleefully as he placed a top hat on his head. 

“Really? A bonnet?” Shaw glared again at Finch who tried to avoid eye contact with the petite teammate as she gripped the so called hat tightly in her hand. 

Fusco spent the whole car ride to the warehouse playing Christmas carols on his phone to help his teammates prepare. 

“Oh, gotta sing Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” Fusco said as he turned up the volume on his phone. 

With her ninja reflexes Shaw grabbed his phone and deleted the song. “Pass. That song is creepy.” She threw his phone back at him. 

“Well what do you suggest?” snapped Fusco as he looked at his phone and saw that Shaw did indeed delete the song from his phone. 

“Uh...what about My Favorite Things?” Shaw shrugged twisting the bonnet in her hands. 

“Some of your favorite things are whiskers on kittens and warm woolen mittens?” asked Fusco of Shaw very skeptically. 

“No, it’s cream-colored ponies and crisp apple strudels,” Reese joined in with a lazy smirk as he pulled their car up to the warehouse parking lot. 

“No, change the lyrics to something like meat on sticks, busting kneecaps, and knocking out asshole dicks,” said Shaw as she got out of the car and very begrudgingly put on the bonnet and tried to maneuver and walk in the bulky floor length skirt. 

“Sure thing Buttercup, that sounds real Christmassy,” Fusco smirked at his deranged female teammate, “You forgot to add shooting down that Root chick.” The detective smiled smugly who in return got an epic roll eye from Shaw. 

As soon as they approached the main entrance, a female executive came and greeted them. She looked thoroughly impressed with their costumes. 

“We’ve had a bit of a morale problem during this holiday season,” the female executive lead the three teammates in their carol singers costumes down a few different hallways as she continued talking. “The biggest selling product is in such high demand we’ve been asking employees to work double shifts and we didn’t have the time for an office Christmas party this year.” They rounded a corner and entered the massive warehouse with several production lines and many diligent if zombie like employees working quietly. “So we wanted to do something nice for them, I thought what about cookies and carol singers while they work?” 

Shaw thought to herself, she was glad to work in a field where having carol singers visit while working was never an option. 

The female executive looked to each of the three teammates. “The agency said the three of you are very talented, and in particular you Ms. Daisy Brooke, a trained opera singer - how exciting!” 

Shaw’s eyes widened at news of her fake persona having such an accomplished resume. 

Fusco leaned over to Shaw and whispered, “Hey, Shaw your name sounds like a salad dressing.” 

“What is the biggest selling product this season?” asked Reese, looking rather dashing in his carol singers getup. 

The female executive looked uncomfortable for a moment, “The biggest seller this year is a therapeutic pillow called Cuddle Peep, it’s also a kind of...mental health booster,” even as she said these words it was clear the woman didn’t mean them. 

“You’re running out of pillows?” Shaw asked, confused as to how a pillow could be selling out. 

“People seem to like it,” said the female executive very quickly, “I was thinking the three of you could stand off to the side over here and start singing.” The female executive clearly didn't want to elaborate on the popularity or specifics of the biggest selling product. 

Fusco leaned over to Shaw, “I heard some women talking about it at the precinct, it’s a man shaped pillow with arms that hug you and…”

“Yeah, I got it. There was one a few years ago that wasn’t that popular,” Shaw interrupted the good detective. 

“Well apparently the one from a few years ago didn’t have fingers that vibrated and were waterproof,” Fusco raised his eyebrows to his female teammate. “Women can be very strange sometimes.” 

Reese could hear the whole exchange and just raised his eyebrows. 

The female executive had just finished walking the three teammates through the warehouse floor when a tall brunette woman sporting a ponytail and wearing the full corporate uniform walked up to them very quickly from the side so her face wasn’t fully visible. 

“This is our new database specialist, Lily Hopper,” as the female executive introduced Root to the team they tried to act as casual as possible, “Lily, will we have enough inventory to make the shipments for the night, for the last few hours of Christmas?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I have reallocated all the shipments, especially Cuddle Peep globally where inventory is most needed,” Root spoke like she's worked there for ages instead of the 27 minutes she’s probably been there. “No one is going to be without a Cuddle Peep, if they want one.” 

Shaw noticed the dorky outfit Root was wearing; khaki pants, yellow polo shirt with a blue vest over it. Damn it, Shaw thought, Root could even make this dull outfit hot and interesting. 

“These are the carol singers,” the female executive told Root, “they are going to start singing to hopefully raise some cheer and spirits.”

“I have no doubt they will raise up both,” Root smiled and stared intensely at Shaw. The petite primary asset showed great restraint and Christmas cheer by not rolling her eyes. “Well, I’m a busy elf. Can’t wait to hear the beautiful, harmonized carols,” Root said as she walked away from her teammates. 

As the employees continued to work at different stations across the warehouse, Reese, Fusco and Shaw were instructed to start singing. 

Right before they started, a male employee yelled out, “Do you guys know Christmas Don’t Be Late?” Which gathered a few cheers for endorsement. 

Shaw gritted her teeth, she knew somehow Root put this guy up into requesting that specific song. “I’m a trained opera singer; I’m not singing a song by chipmunks,” Shaw said in a snarky tone, then noticed sad/mad faces of the employees so she tried to soften the blow, “How about Rudolph instead?” The employee’s faces grew a little brighter with the mention of the red-nosed reindeer. 

The fake carol singers started singing Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer and it was very clear the three people were not professional singers, let alone even people that ever sang that much before or together as a trio. Fusco looked like he was only the one having fun singing, Reese looked like he was having a root canal and Shaw had the most plastic hard smile she could muster. 

They were only one verse into the song when suddenly, a truck plowed into the massive metal warehouse door, knocking it down and three masked gunmen jumped out and started yelling for everyone to drop to the floor. 

“Well, at least we only had to sing one verse,” Fusco joked as he looked to his two teammates who were already shrugging off some of their carol singer clothes and whipping out their guns. 

Shaw and Reese both fired off rounds in succession shooting all three men masked men in the knees; stopping their robbery and possible endangerment of many lives of the warehouse workers immediately. 

All the warehouse workers cheered, way louder for this excitement than for the carol singing. 

Root walked by slowly and smiled, “Nice job. The shooting was better than the singing.”

“Where in the hell did you come from? And why are you here, checking up on us?” Shaw asked, pleased to pull off her carol singing top, leaving on a black long sleeve shirt underneath and then tearing off her skirt revealing black pants; picking up the clothes and throwing them in a nearby trash can. 

“I’m here for a different mission, one that unfortunately doesn’t involve the vibrating finger pillows,” Root said as she started walking away, Shaw followed after her. Then Fusco and Reese followed behind them since they were headed in the direction of the car. 

That’s when Fusco looked up and spotted the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling under one walkway, "Hey, Coca Puffs stop, don't move," Fusco said while putting up his hand to halt the hacker and keep her standing in one place, he walked over and stood next to Root. “Shaw, come over here for a second. It’s important number business,” the detective lied. 

Shaw walked up to her teammates with a bit of confusion on her face. 

"What's going on?" asked a confused burrowed eyebrow petite primary asset. 

"Look you two are under the mistletoe,” Fusco smiled and pointed up to the ceiling, “C'mon Shorty, you gotta kiss her. There are rules," Fusco had a huge grin plastered across his face while his petite teammate slitted her eyes at him. 

Root stared at intensely at Shaw, first into her eyes then lower and focused on her lips. 

"Before Christmas Shaw," Fusco nudged harder between his two perceived lovelorn teammates, so he kept missing clues the two had been somewhat together for a few months. Root and Shaw were pretty good at hiding it except that one time they were almost caught in flagrante on Harold's desk but thankfully the Machine diverted the rest of the team for a few minutes for them to get disengaged and dressed. 

Root leaned in slightly to Shaw, who then leaned slightly away from her. 

"Well, I tried Coca Puffs," Fusco patted Root on the back and walked past his two female teammates exiting the building, Reese then walked past and gave both of them a sly smile. 

When the hacker was was sure the guy teammates were out of earshot, "I'm wearing a mistletoe thong," whispered Root to Shaw as she leaned again and this time the lean was reciprocated. 

"Sounds itchy," replied back Shaw as this time it was her turn to stare at Root’s lips like they were piece of candy she desperately wanted. 

Suddenly, the female executive walked up and saw the mistletoe. “Oh, sorry about. I don’t know who hung that up. That is just sexual harassment waiting to happen.” She stormed off in another direction to destroy mistletoe and to make sure as many people as possible got the Cuddle Peep. 

As Root and Shaw continued walking towards the exit, there was one dimly lit warehouse aisle, Shaw yanked Root off to the side, grabbed hard onto the blue vest and kissed her fiercely. Root immediately raised her hands to cup Shaw’s face. Their tongues battled for dominance but it was pretty clear it was a draw. Then just as quickly as it started, Shaw pushed Root away and started walking toward the exit again. Root felt a little weak in the knees and her lips were tingling from being kissed so blissfully hard. When they both got in the car with Fusco and Reese, they were quiet and stole a few glances at each other. 

Finch’s voice suddenly came over all their comms, “Please, make your way to Rockefeller skating rink immediately. This new number is coincidentally connected to the number you just saved.” The car started speeding back towards the city. “I’m sending photos of the victim and the believed perpetrator.” 

“Shopping at the mall, carol singing together and now ice skating with hot chocolate...this is the best Christmas ever,” Root smiled at Shaw through the rear view mirror, because of course Shaw was driving with Reese riding shotgun. Then the hacker smiled at Reese and Fusco. 

Once the team got to Rockefeller center they weren’t sure how to find the perpetrator since there were so many people in every direction, holiday crowds and all. 

Finch came through the comms with some instructions and information, “Carrie Tinswell and her family are ice skating, they purchased tickets 17 minutes ago. The texts the Machine has intercepted indicated that an attempt on her life will be made this evening. Please, proceed with extreme caution as this is a very heavily populated area, especially at this time of year.” 

“Finch, why would someone want to kill this Carrie Tinswell?” asked Reese while he was scanning the crowd for the woman and her family. Shaw had taken the outer perimeter on the other side of the ice skating rink. Fusco went to talk to the management of the ice skating rink to clear off the rink for a Zamboni break. Root disappeared into the crowd and it wasn’t clear if she was actually helping or off another solo mission. 

“The perpetrator, Elliot Smithton wants Carrie Tinswell dead for inventing the Cuddle Peep,” Finch said over the comms, “Have you located Ms. Tinswell and her family yet. Or Elliot Smithton?”

Shaw and Reese carefully continued to scan hundreds of people searching for the victim and perpetrator. Finally, one was spotted, “I’ve got eyes on Tinswell and her family,” said Reese with concern in his voice, “They are skating right in the middle of the rink. Finch, on a scale of 1 to 10, how likely is this Smithton guy to hurt innocent bystanders?”

“Unfortunately, Mr. Reese I think Mr. Smithton has very little value for human life since his wife left him and he blames Ms. Tinswell,” Finch said with a hint of sadness to his voice. 

“Are you saying his wife left him for a pillow?” asked a somewhat surprised Shaw. 

“It appears from numerous, hostile comments the Machine found on message boards for Ms. Tinswell’s invention that Mr. Smithton does indeed blame the pillow for the demise of his marriage,” Finch’s voice sounded worried, “Proceed with the utmost caution.” 

“So Smithton might shoot onto an open crowd of families and kids?” Reese saw Smithton enter the rink, seeing a deranged and hyper focus stare on Tinswell and her family. “Shaw, Smithton has entered the rink, he’s moving fast towards Tinswell and her family,” Reese said in a hurried, worried tone. “Can you take a shot at him from where you are?”

Shaw stopped where she was and tried to get a shot, extreme frustration expressed on her face. “It’s impossible, there are too many people,” Shaw said as she started running towards the entrance to the rink or the closest edge to get access. 

Smithton not wearing skates got closer and closer to his target, who was unaware that an unstable man was hell bent on killing her for inadvertently destroying his marriage. Reese pushed his way through the holiday crowds to get closer. Shaw finally made it to the rink and charged out onto the rink, still unsure how she was going to take Smithton down without drawing too much unwanted attention. Shooting him might be too dangerous in this dense crowd. 

Suddenly, a female ice skater decked out in a full skating outfit glided by Shaw so fast the strands of her hair flew up in her face. The body of the elegant figure skating looked very familiar. Shaw’s eyes followed the skater through the dense crowd until she got a better look and saw it was indeed Root decked out in a stunning ice skating ensemble and her hair in a bun, speeding towards Smithton who was now a few mere feet away from Tinswell. Root then launched into a flying camel spin, everyone in immediate area oohhed and ahhhed at her impressive skill. As soon as the hacker landed after her jump spin she reached out next to her where Smithton was and tasered him while going into another spin and skating away; but not before saying, “Not a peep.” It all happened so fast and so seamless only Shaw could tell what Root really did and she couldn’t help the impressed smile spread across her face. Smithton fell to the ice face first unconcious. Shaw and Reese went over and pulled the perpetrator off the rink and into the arms of the police. 

Root walked up to where Fusco, Reese and Shaw were standing by the hot chocolate stand while Smithton was hauled off to jail and they looked on while Tinswell enjoyed ice skating with her family. 

"I didn't know you could skate, Root," Reese said, handing Root a hot chocolate. 

"I've got many hidden talents, John." Root said as she gratefully accepted the paper cup. "I once choked out a guy with ballerina shoes after a performance of the Nutcracker," she turned to Shaw and grinned. "I played the Sugarplum Fairy."

"Well maybe you shoulda played the Nutcracker, because I'm adding that to the list of names to call ya." Fusco snorted. 

"You sure have a way with words, Lionel," Root teased, taking a sip of the hot chocolate and unknowingly getting some of the whipped cream on the tip of her nose. 

Shaw automatically reached out a brushed the whipped cream off of Root's nose with her fingers while Root looked at her with adoring eyes. After getting the last of the whipped cream, Shaw withdrew her hand and looked over to her male teammates who were all staring unbelievably at her. 

"Did she just..." Reese whispered to Fusco. 

"What?" Shaw said defensively, "I was just helping her wipe the foam from her nose. Just being a good teammate. Geez." She quickly walked away, followed closely by Root. 

"I think I know what Coco Puffs wants for Christmas," Fusco said to John out of the side of his mouth. 

"I heard that, Lionel!" Shaw shouted back.

Finch’s voice once again broke the brief silence, “If Mr. Smithton has been taken care of, there’s a new number that needs our urgent attention.”

“I’m beginning to actually feel like Santa in regards to the amount of workload in one day,” said Fusco while sipping his own hot chocolate.


	3. I Saw the Sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, Shooters! We actually wrote so much that we had to split the final chapter into two chapters. I had so much fun collaborating with Hufflepufflovespizza; getting to shoot around ideas with her was the best! And her comedic writing is pure gold.
> 
> Also, shoutout to the incredibly talented and sweet Marina (http://marina-does-things.tumblr.com/) who made some fan art inspired by chapter one. We inspired fan art! I still can't wrap my head around that.

“Alright, Finch. What do you have for us?” Reese asked as the team entered through the doors of the subway car and surrounded around the computer desk where Harold was seated in front of the monitors.

“Our new number is David Crawford,” Harold answered, pulling up various files on the screen relating to the new number. “A preliminary search reveals that Mr. Crawford works for the FBI. He is divorced with one child - a son, Eli Crawford, who is currently staying at the Children’s hospital awaiting a liver transplant.”

“Ah, that’s rough,” Fusco commented, shaking his head. “To have a sick kid cooped up in the hospital during Christmas - that's pretty tough on the kid _and_ the parents.”

“Indeed,” Harold agreed. “Surveillance footage shows that Mr. Crawford has been visiting his son at the hospital every evening after work, but lately he has also been meeting with certain members of a well-known mob run by the notorious Thomas Falcone.”

“Falcone. I've heard of him,” Shaw nodded. “I heard his name come up a lot when I was still running with Romeo’s crew. He’s a bully who rose up the ranks by threatening people into doing his dirty work. Wonder how our FBI guy got mixed up with this scum.”

“That's exactly what I’d like for you to find out, Ms. Shaw,” Harold confirmed. “And given that you may be dealing with several members of Thomas Falcone’s gang, I suggest that you bring as much backup as possible.” He looked pointedly at Reese, Fusco and Root.

“Yeah, yeah. And here I thought that it would be a quiet holiday break,” Fusco mumbled. “Guess Santa’s got other plans for me.” He turned to Root. “You planning on joining us this time, Nutcracker? Or do you have another side mission that you gotta take care of?”

Root beamed. “Fortunately for you, Lionel, I'll be tagging along on this one. Harry, on the other hand, has a mission of his own.” Root turned to look at Harold and waggled her eyebrow at him. “Don't worry, Harry, this one doesn't involve shooting anyone.”

Harold raised his eyebrows in mild alarm. “I should hope not.” He turned to address the others. “In the interest of time, I would strongly recommend that you split into teams. Mr. Reese and Detective Fusco, I would suggest that you use your NYPD resources to find out what Thomas Falcone wants with Mr. Crawford. Ms. Shaw and Ms. Groves will track Mr. Crawford to see what information they can uncover that would tell us _why_ his number came up.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Root grinned. “And here’s everything you'll need for your little side mission.” She handed a set of keys to Harold. “It's for a storage unit in Midtown. She’ll be in touch soon with instructions for you.” Root flashed him a grin before looping her arm with Shaw’s and tugging her towards the direction of the exit.

 

….

 

“Any luck yet?”

Shaw sighed grumpily as she dropped the pair of binoculars onto her lap. “Nothing. It's been nearly two hours on this stakeout and I haven't seen our guy come out from that house. I'm hungry and it's freezing out here in this car.” She pulled the lapels of her jacket tighter around herself to try and keep out the chill.

“Well if you're cold, I can always help warm you up,” Root offered salaciously.

Shaw rolled her eyes and continued looking out her window, focused on her target. A few minutes passed by before she noticed Root shivering from the cold air seeping into the old Toyota where they were seated. The hacker was wearing a leather jacket that probably did nothing to keep the cold out. She wasn't even wearing gloves. Root rubbed her hands together and blew on them to try to warm them up. Shaw gave a resigned sigh and turned to face Root.

“Give me your hands,” she said flatly, holding out her own hands, palms facing up.

“What?”

“Just give me your goddamn hands, Root.”

Root tentatively placed her freezing hands in Shaw’s warm ones. Instantly feeling the cold start to melt out of her fingers.

“Better?” Shaw asked, idly rubbing the tops of Root's hands with her thumbs.

“Much better now,” Root grinned at Shaw. She gasped as Shaw suddenly pulled her closer and guided her hands under her jacket so that Root's hand were now cupping Shaw’s ribs over top of her black cotton shirt. Root stroked at Shaw’s sides with her thumbs, reveling in the warmth radiating from her body. She brought her hands down towards the hem of Shaw’s shirt and slid them underneath the cotton material, making Shaw bite back a gasp when she felt Root’s cold hands make contact with the warm skin of her stomach. Root leaned in and captured Shaw’s lips in a kiss, warming up instantly when Shaw opened her mouth to taste her.

As the kiss got more heated, Shaw considered pulling the lever on her seat to recline back and pull Root on top of her but she snapped back to attention when she spotted the number exiting the front door of his house out of the corner of her eye. She reluctantly pulled herself away from Root’s warm lips and wandering hands.

“Root, I see Crawford. Time to move,” she whispered, a bit breathless.

Root pouted and retracted her hands. “Just when things were about to heat up.”

“Believe me, we’re picking up right where we left off as soon as this number gets resolved,” Shaw growled, waiting for Crawford to get into his own car before turning the key in the ignition.

 

….

 

They followed Crawford to a diner and watched as he walked over and sat down at a table where two other men were already waiting. Root and Shaw sat down a few tables away and bluejacked his phone to listen in on his conversation with the other men.

“Everything going according to plan?” One of the men asked.

“Yes. Everything is fine. Remember, this is a one time deal. I upload the virus in the system for you and you guys will leave my family alone forever,” Crawford responded.

“Of course. Mr. Falcone is a man of his word. You upload the virus for us and your son survives through Christmas and gets his liver transplant. You fail or you try to trick us and he dies. Simple as that.” The other man said matter-of-factly, handing Crawford a USB drive. “Call us to confirm once the virus has been uploaded and we'll call off our people. If you don't call us by 10pm sharp we’ll assume that you double crossed us and your boy bites the bullet.”

“Understood,” Crawford answered somberly, taking the USB drive. He stood up and took out his wallet, fishing out a few bills and tossing them on the table before leaving.

Shaw turned on her earpiece. “Reese, Falcone is blackmailing the number into uploading a virus to the FBI network. He's got people ready to kill the kid if Crawford fails.”

“We’re at the hospital now, but there's one problem,” Reese responded. “There's no way for us to tell who’s working for Falcone. We pulled background checks on all of the staff working in this hospital wing and they're all clean. Falcone’s probably blackmailing one or many of the hospital staff to get rid of Crawford’s kid.”

“Ugh, I can't stand bullies,” Shaw mumbled. “If I ever run into him, I'll introduce him to my fist. Several times.”

“Oh, I love it when you talk dirty,” Root interrupted.

“Hey Shaw, you wanna tell your girlfriend to lay off on the flirting? Some of us are trying to work over here!” Fusco complained through the comms.

“She’s not my- you know what? I have better things to do than argue with you about this, Lionel. We’ll check in when we get more information.” Shaw cut off the call.

“So...you didn't deny it when Lionel called me your girlfriend,” Root pointed out.

“Don't think too much about it. If I denied it, he would have tried to ask more questions, and I'm not in the mood to be interrogated.”

“Whatever you say, sweetie.”

 

….

 

Crawford drove into the core of Manhattan, closely followed by Root and Shaw. He parked his car on the street and entered an office building. To the untrained eye, the building looked just like any other office building, but to an ex-government assassin, the seemingly banal looking building was most likely an FBI front.

“Does your AI friend have any ideas about how to break into an FBI facility undetected?” Shaw asked.

Root paused for a moment, listening intently to the voice in her ear. She grinned and turned to Shaw. “She's disabling the security system for two minutes, which would give us enough time to enter. There's also two security guys patrolling the building who we’ll have to avoid. Crawford is likely going to the control room on the top floor in order to upload the virus, and we’ll have to work fast to counter the virus before it spreads. I'll take care of that while you keep a lookout for security.”

Shaw nodded, tucking her USP compact into her coat pocket and getting out of the car.

“One more thing, Sam,” Root added as they headed toward the building, “We only have a ten minute window for me to hack in and destroy the virus before the system detects an intrusion and alerts the FBI. If I can't get out in time, leave without me.”

Shaw scoffed. “What, and let you have all the fun? Please. I'm staying until you get out.

Root raised her eyebrows. “Is that your way of telling me that you care?”

“No. I just haven't shot at anyone for a while and there's potential here for a firefight. Need to work off some steam after being stuck playing Mrs. Claus for the past few days.”

“Well Sam, you know my opinion on how you can work off steam,” Root teased.

“Ugh. Shut up, Root. Let's just go break into the building and get this over with.”

 

….

 

Harold arrived at the storage unit and lifted the door open. He stepped into the unit and turned on the light switch, flooding the room with light. In the middle of the unit was a parked pickup truck and what appeared to be a big brown sack sitting in the back of it. Harold’s phone buzzed in his pocket to indicate that he had received a text.

_Drive to 55 Exchange Pl., New York, NY._

“And what exactly will I be doing once I get to 55 Exchange Place?” Harold asked aloud, knowing that the Machine can pick up his voice from the mic on his phone.

A buzz.

_Helping people._

Harold looked at the truck and sighed. “I have a feeling that I'm going to regret this,” he muttered to himself as he opened the door and climbed in.

He drove to the address that the Machine had specified and parked outside of the building.

“What now?” He asked the Machine.

_Back seat._

Harold turned his entire body around to peer into the cramped back seat of the truck.

“You've got to be kidding me.”

_I do not have the capacity to kid._

“Then what,” Harold asked, pulling out a Santa costume complete with a snow-white beard, “is this?”

_Your cover._

“My cover is Santa Claus?”

_Correct._

Harold sighed. “And I suppose there is something to be done about the sack that's in the back of the truck?”

_Carry it inside. Use the back entrance._

Harold started to get out of the car when his phone buzzed again.

_Put the suit on first._

Harold rolled his eyes and began to put on the costume over his four piece suit. After pulling on the beard and hat, he opened the truck door and stepped out. He walked around to the back of the truck and pulled out the sack. He carefully swung the sack over his right shoulder and walked around the building to the back entrance, sweating a little bit from the exertion. He opened the door and stepped in, surveying his surroundings.

“This is an orphanage,” he whispered just loud enough for the Machine to hear.

He set the sack down and took out his phone when it buzzed.

_The tree is located in the common room; second room to your right._

Harold tucked the phone back into his pocket and lifted the sack, shuffling with it to the common room where the little plastic tree stood next to a fireplace.

_Place the gifts from the sack under the tree._

_“This_ was the mission?” Harold questioned. “I thought we were saving people?”

 _Helping people_ , the Machine corrected.

Harold sighed, “I suppose I can't fault you for wanting to spread some holiday cheer. Although, there must have been an easier way. You could have just told me what we were doing from the start.”

_And you could have left me on an open system from the start._

Harold raised his eyebrows. “I don't think I programmed you to have such a snarky attitude,” he admonished.

_Analog Interface added some programming. She gave me the ability to protect myself. The snark was a byproduct._

“I should have figured,” Harold said, taking out the gifts from the bag one by one and placing them under the tree.

After placing the last gift under the tree, Harold took the sack and folded it up, preparing to leave. Before he could take a step, his phone buzzed again.

_Santa has to eat a cookie and drink the milk left by the fireplace._

“Really?” Harold asked. “I'm sure someone who works here at the orphanage will be more than happy to do that.”

_*SANTA* has to eat a cookie and drink the milk._

Harold threw his hands up. “Fine. I suppose I could add a last bit of flourish to this impromptu side mission that you have me on.”

He took down the plate of cookies from the fireplace mantelpiece and chose the least stale-looking cookie, taking a bite out of it. Putting the half-eaten cookie back onto the plate, he picked up the glass of room temperature milk and sighed. Realizing that he was not going to be able to take a sip of the milk without dunking his fake white beard into it and making a mess, he set the glass back down and proceeded to take off the beard first. As he pulled the beard down, his glasses, which were tangled in the beardy mess, slid off his face and dropped to the floor. Startled, Harold took a step backwards and heard an unpleasant crunch as his foot stepped onto the glasses.

“Oh dear,” Harold mumbled, placing the glass of milk back on the mantel and dropping to his knees to search for his spectacles. He was blind as a bat without them, and so had feel around to find them.

 

_...._

 

_**Meanwhile, at the FBI building**_

 

Root and Shaw stepped off the elevator on the top floor of the building and headed towards the control room, directed by the Machine.

“The control room is that one,” Root pointed to Shaw. “It’s divided into two sections, the server is located in a room in the back section, which I have the passcode to. Once Crawford uploads the virus and leaves, I’ll go into the back and hack the system to counter it. You stay out in the front and keep a lookout for security.”

Shaw nodded.

They waited around the corner out of sight until they spotted Crawford leaving. Once he had gotten into the elevator, Root and Shaw rushed quietly down the hall and into the control room. Root headed into the back room while Shaw remained in the front section, leaving the main door cracked open just enough so that she could do a good sweep of the hallway. She was crouched down, leaning her back against the wall, keeping an eye on the wall clock across from her to make sure that they would be able to get out in time. Around the seven minute mark, Shaw stood up quickly to peer at Root through the glass wall. She was focused on the monitor in front of her, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“You’ve got less than three minutes, Root. Finish up before you trip the security system”

Root was too busy typing to answer, so Shaw shrugged and crouched down again at her post. Suddenly, she heard a faint noise and peeked around the corner. She heard the ding of the elevator signalling that the doors were going to open and that the security guard was likely getting off on this floor to do a walkaround.

“Root, patrol is here. You’ve got ten seconds. Get out now.” Shaw waited a beat for Root to answer, but nothing came through the comms. Time was running out fast.

"Root. Root? Can you hear me?" Shaw looked over to where the hacker was sitting in front of the monitor behind the thick glass divide of the control room, furiously typing away. She tried the comms again, but to no avail. She looked up at the wall clock. It’s been over ten minutes, the system would have detected the intrusion by now.  
  
_Damn it, Root. Bad timing, as usual._ Shaw considered shouting to Root to get her attention, but that would alert the security guard and defeat the purpose of being stealth. She connected the line to Harold to get his help.  
  
"Hey Finch. I can't get through to Root on the comms - is this something you can fix using your nerd powers? I think she got disconnected the moment she went into the server room."  
  
"Ms. Shaw, I am unfortunately indisposed at the moment," Harold replied, panting heavily.  
  
Shaw raised an eyebrow. "Why are you panting so hard? Oh. Uhhhh is this a bad time?"  
  
"What? No! I mean yes, it's a bad time, but no, I'm not doing what you may think I'm doing," Harold grunted.  
  
"Riiiiiight. Well whatever you're doing can wait - this is urgent. We're running out of time and I can't get through to Root. Can you fix her comms?"  
  
"Sameen, I've dropped my glasses and now I can't find them," Harold huffed, disgruntled. "Without my glasses, I won't be able to see anything, much less fix the communication lines."  
  
"Ugh, fuck you and your glasses, Harold!" Shaw growled angrily.  
  
"M-Ms. Shaw! Language, please!" Harold scolded in horror.  
  
"Fuck your language!" Shaw snapped. She paused and took in a calming breath. "What might the problem be? Maybe I can fix it."  
  
"Well, aside from your shocking use of expletives, I can only assume that something is blocking the signal to Ms. Groves' communication line. You said it was working fine until she entered the control room?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then perhaps the room is encased in a faraday cage of sorts. That makes sense, since the cage would prevent any wireless hacking into the system servers. I'm afraid you'll have to find a different way of contacting Ms. Groves.”

“Thanks for nothing, Finch,” Shaw muttered as she disconnected the line. Her phone buzzed and she looked down at it to find a text from the Machine.

_FBI have arrived. They are through the front door and headed up to this floor. I have disabled the elevators, but they can still take the stairs. ETA: five minutes._

Shaw gritted her teeth, she tried waving her arms to get Root’s attention but had not been successful so far. She rifled through the nearby desks and found some paper and a black marker. Perhaps she could write a sign that Root might see. Shaw quickly wrote out a sign in block letters to hopefully get the hacker’s attention.

She held up a sign reading: ‘NERD GET OUT - FBI HERE’

Root didn’t look up, still laser focused on accomplishing her hacking mission.

Shaw sighed, then went and scribbled away furiously on another sign: ‘ROOT LEAVE NOW’

Still no response.

Shaw went back and wrote again, this time pressing the marker so hard on the paper it was nearly tearing. She walked back to the window and held up yet another sign: ‘DUMBASS - CODE FASTER’.

Nothing was working. Shaw even thought about taking her shirt off - it might succeed in getting the hacker’s attention, but if the FBI guys showed up it would be hard to explain. Plus, she wasn’t going to give just anybody a free show like she would for Root. The petite primary asset sighed in frustration and desperation. Throwing her hands up, she proceeded to write one more sign. Shaw let out a big sigh while she wrote the four words down on paper. As she wrote down the last word, she let out a deep breath and held up the sign to see if she could finally get Root’s attention.

‘MOVE IN WITH ME’

She secretly hoped Root didn't see the sign and just somehow had the sense to get the fuck out on her own. Not likely.

Root looked up from her extreme concentration on the keyboard with at first a very confused look on her face which then morphed instantly into a high wattage smile that could light up Times Square.

Of course she saw the sign.

 _Damn it, Root_. Of all the antics that she tried, that was only the sign that caught Root’s attention. Shaw gestured towards her wrist to get across that it was time to go. Root focused her attention back to the computer, typed for a few more seconds then exited the secure room.

Root walked over and stood completely gobsmacked staring at Shaw. Shaw rolled her eyes; she knew Root was in shock about getting asked to move in together. And she knew Root wanted to kiss her, because she’s a big sap and had that big dopey eye thing going on. Shaw begrudgingly admitted it was easier to kiss the hacker in these circumstances than not to kiss her.

“Come here,” Shaw huffed, Root moved closer to her and was just about to cup her petite primary asset’s face and kiss her fiercely when the Machine alerted them that the FBI agents were almost there.  

“We’ve got company. Come on, Sam - follow me,” Root said, grabbing Shaw’s wrist and pulling her down the hall.

“FBI agents are inside and on our floor. They'll be around the corner any second now,” Root said, still dragging Shaw along with her.

The Machine helpfully disclosed that there was a supply closet just down the hall. Root ran up to the door of the supply closet and opened it, shoving Shaw inside and following her into the cramped room. Shaw glared at her furiously, but Root put up a finger to her lips, signalling her to keep quiet. They could hear footsteps just outside of the door, clunking down the hallway.

“We wouldn’t have been able to outrun them,” Root explained, “there are too many agents out there patrolling the building and searching for us. We have to lay low in here until the coast is clear.”

“Okay, that part makes sense,” Shaw said, “but what about the part where your hand is on my ass?”

Root looked down at the hand in question and smirked at Shaw. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.” She leaned in closer. “That was a nice touch with the sign, Sam. You knew you'd get my attention with those words - even if you didn't really mean it.”

“Root, I-”

“But, since we’re here for the next little while,” Root interrupted, her lips a mere millimeters away from Shaw’s, “what do you say we do something fun to pass the time?”

“Root…”

“I even brought my handcuffs,” Root said lowly, reaching into her back pocket and dangling the cuffs on her index finger.

Shaw grinned. “Well, since you put it that way...”

….

 

_**Back at the Orphanage**_

 

After finally locating his broken glasses on the floor, Harold put them back on and stood up, dusting off his Santa pants. Unfortunately, the glasses were cracked and all but shattered, rendering them pretty much useless. Harold felt his phone buzz and pulled it out, squinting his eyes so that he could see through the cracked glasses as best he could.

_Lost and found by the front desk. There are a pair of glasses there that are close to your prescription._

“Oh, thank goodness,” Harold breathed, relieved. He followed the Machine’s directions to the front desk and rummaged through the lost and found box until he found the pair of glasses. He put them on and blinked a few times to get his eyes accustomed to the new glasses. “Not quite a perfect match, but these will do just fine until I locate my extra pair. Thank you.”

Buzz.

_Mission complete. Primary asset and secondary asset require your assistance at the Children’s Hospital._

Harold sighed. “This day never ends.”

 

….

 

_**At the FBI building.**_

 

“Hey Johnson, ready to go? Looks like the perps got the slip on us,” said one FBI agent to the other.

They were alerted to a possible breach in the control room and had done a sweep of the entire top floor, finding nothing but a few sheets of paper with words like ‘MOVE IN WITH ME’ scrawled on them. What an odd thing to write. Agent Daisy Johnson was not entirely sure if these sheets of paper would be of any use, but she gathered them up anyway in case they might contain prints.

“I'm going to do one final sweep of the top floor, just to make sure we didn't miss anything,” Johnson replied to her partner. “I'll be back in ten.”

Her partner nodded and headed towards the car to wait while Johnson made her way back up to the top floor. When she finally reached the floor, she walked quietly down the hallway, peeking her head into each room to make sure that they were empty. She was just about to walk past the supply room when she heard something that sounded like muffled groaning and heavy breathing. She tried turning the door handle, but the door was locked. Taking out her gun, she banged loudly on the door.

“FBI! Open the door and step out slowly. Make sure I can see your hands.”

She waited and heard a little bit of shuffling before the door handle turned. The door cracked open and she saw an empty palm held out facing her.

“FBI, Agent Augusta King,” a voice called to her as she saw a woman emerge slowly from the room. “I'm going to reach very slowly into my pocket to show you my badge,” the woman said calmly.

The woman reached into her pocket with one hand still raised and pulled out her badge, showing it to Johnson. Johnson took a look and nodded, putting her gun away.

“Agent Daisy Johnson. I wasn't aware that there were any other agents still here,” Johnson said. “I thought it was just my partner and I.”

“I got up here just before you did,” Root-as-Agent King explained. “Been chasing down this firecracker and finally found her hiding out in the supply closet. There was a bit of a struggle, but don't worry - I've got her all cuffed up now,” she said, opening the door wider and pulling out a woman who looked both grumpy and disheveled. Her shirt had evidence of tearing, and it was hard to tell from this distance, but it looked like her pants were unzipped. Must have been quite a struggle.

“We've got a live one,” Root said.

Johnson regarded the handcuffed woman. “She been sanitized?”

Root nodded. “I'll be bringing this one in myself for interrogation. Thanks for the assist, Agent Johnson.”

Root was just about to walk away with the suspect when she spotted the papers that Johnson had tucked into her coat pocket.

“Those papers…”

“Oh these? We found them in the control room,” Johnson said, pulling them out of her pocket and handing them to Root. “We figured we might be able to get fingerprints from them. By the looks of it, she might have had an accomplice.”

Root nodded, taking the sheets of paper. “Thank you, Agent Johnson, I'll be sure to run these for prints.”

“Well I guess my work here is done, then,” Johnson said. “I'll let my partner know that you have it handled.”

As Johnson turned to leave, Root discreetly leaned into Shaw and zipped up her pants for her. “Don't worry, sweetie. I promise we’ll finish this later,” she whispered in Shaw’s ear.

“Oh, and Agent King?” Johnson called.

Root froze and swiftly turned around to face the other agent, raising her eyebrow in question.

“Merry Christmas.”

Root grinned. “Merry Christmas, Agent Johnson.”

Root turned back to Shaw. “We have to get to the hospital. The Machine said that we’ll be needed there.”

“Root. You had an FBI badge all this time? And you didn't think to tell me?” Shaw growled. “We didn't even need to break in!”

“Oh, sweetie. What would be the fun in that?”

 

….

 

_**At the hospital**_

 

“Any new developments on the number, Finch?” Reese asked through the comms. “We still can’t tell which of the hospital staff have been paid off by Falcone, and I doubt that you’ll be happy if we just started shooting out the kneecaps of anyone who goes near the kid’s room.”

“Not to mention that would be completely illegal,” Fusco pointed out.

“Mr. Reese; Detective Fusco. I am here to offer my assistance,” Harold’s voice appeared behind them, out of breath.

Reese and Fusco turned around to look at him.

“Glasses? What are you doing here? And why are you dressed as Santa?” Fusco asked.

“Hey, we’re here.” Shaw said, running up to meet the three men with Root by her side. “The Machine said that you guys needed our help?”

Shaw turned to look at Harold. “Did you get new glasses, Finch? Those look like the ones that Barb from Stranger Things wears,” she said, snorting.

“Who from what now?” Fusco asked, confused.

“Looks like you two saw more action than we did,” Reese said, nodding to Root and Shaw. “Especially Shaw. Did your shirt come with a rip in it, or is this a don’t ask, don’t tell thing?”

“Ah, shit,” Shaw said, looking down at her ripped top, which exposed a bit more cleavage than necessary. She pointedly ignored the look of alarm on Harold’s face. “I need to find something to change into.”

“I’ve got that covered, sweetie,” Root said, tossing a bag to Shaw, Reese and Fusco.

The three looked into their respective bags to find Santa costumes.

“What are you trying to say, Root? That red is more my color?” Reese deadpanned.

“Or are you trying to imply something about my bowl full of jelly?” Fusco added.

“I’m not doing this again,” Shaw said bluntly.

“Oh come on, where’s your holiday spirit?” Root teased. “Look at Harry - he’s got the right idea.” Besides, the Machine needs us in these costumes to complete the mission. Now chop chop - we have a number to take care of. Harry - you’re coming with me to the surveillance room.”

As Root was turning to leave, Shaw grabbed her by the elbow. “Thomas Falcone is here. In this hospital.” she whispered. “I can see him right there, lurking outside of Crawford’s kid’s room down the hall.” she said, gesturing with her chin toward the man in question. Shaw started walking towards the mob boss but was pulled back abruptly by Root.

“Costume first, Sameen. Remember, Falcone might have eyes everywhere in this hospital. You'll never get close enough to him wearing what you're wearing right now,” Root said, tracing a finger along the edge of a rip right above Shaw’s sternum and getting a scowl in return the petite primary asset.

“You too, boys,” she said, turning to Reese and Fusco. “We can't risk having a shootout in the middle of a children's hospital. Better get changed into your cover identities. Come on, Harry,” She took Harold’s arm and guided him to the direction of the surveillance room.

 

….

 

After changing, the three Santas rounded the corner and approached the hospital room where Crawford was visiting with his son.

“Wait. Falcone was just here a couple of minutes ago,” Shaw said, looking around. “Where could he have gone?”

“Good news, kids. I've got the identities of Falcone’s people.” Root’s voice crackled through the comms. “We need to take them out as discreetly as possible. Apparently Crawford called the FBI and confessed everything to them. The Feds will be on their way, but if Falcone’s men get here first, things are sure to get bloody.”

All of their phones buzzed at the same time as Root sent them pictures of the henchmen and of the hospital staff who was working for Falcone.

“Divide and conquer?” Shaw suggested.

“Sounds good to me,” Reese answered.

The three Santas split up and headed in different directions. Shaw spotted Falcone’s guy who was working undercover as a doctor walking toward the room and moved quickly to step in his way.

“Ho Ho Ho,” she belted in the most Kris Kringliest tone she could muster, “do you happen to know where the cafeteria is? Santa's a little hungry.”

“Get lost, Santa. I've got patients to see,” the guy replied. He clearly was not interested in playing along.

“Oh ho ho! Well, can you take a look at my hand? I think I hit it on something.”

The guy sighed. “Hit it on what?”

Shaw swiftly punched the guy square in the jaw, knocking him out cold.

“Your face,” she said, smirking. Talk about punchlines.

Shaw looked around to make sure that the coast was clear before picking up the guy's feet and dragging him into a nearby room. The old couple who were there visiting their granddaughter looked at the unconscious man and then back up at Shaw in shock.

Shaw shrugged. “Fainted at the sight of blood. Doctors these days, am I right?”

When the family didn't react, Shaw rolled her eyes and left the room. “Reese; Fusco. I got one man down - how are you guys holding up?” she asked over the comms.

“We took down three more,” Reese replied. “I think that should take care of it. FBI should be here any minute...although we still don't see Falcone anywhere.”

“Don't worry about Thomas, he’s been taken care of,” Root assured them over the comms. “Looks like Crawford and his son can enjoy Christmas together after all.”

“Yeah, but won't he go to prison for uploading that virus up to the FBI system?” Fusco asked.

“He was blackmailed into doing it. We’ve got Falcone’s men on tape delivering the threats. Besides, there was no harm done; the virus was countered just in time,” Root explained.

“Well then, I guess it's time for us to head out,” Fusco said.

“Thank god. I can't wait to change out of this godawful outfit,” Shaw grumbled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love the scene with the signs? That's the work of the wonderful Hufflepufflovespizza!
> 
> Apparently, AO3 only allows one author to publish each chapter - even though it's a collaborative effort. Just wanted to give credit where credit is due :)


	4. Santa Is Alive, Bitches!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much reading, kudos and all the lovely comments! :-) Here is some more Christmas fluff if y'all are still in a Christmassy mood! 
> 
> For some reason AO3 only lets one name post per chapter, so HUGE THANKS and CHEERS to the co-writer T_NInja for agreeing to collaborate on this, it's been so much fun! Truly a blast getting to shoot around ideas with her, she's so incredibly talented and all around completely awesome wonderful kickass person!!

As the three Santas walked down the hallway of the children’s hospital, they turned a corner and ran into a small group of kids in a small playroom area; a few of the kids were sitting in small chairs at tables playing with toys, a few others played a game on the floor and a few were there just to watch from comfy lounge chairs. 

“Santa!” one child exclaimed loudly with excitement. The other kid’s faces lit up with the arrival of not one but three Santas, in a kind of a small, medium and large variety with Reese, Fusco and Shaw in their respective beards and red suits.

“Please, Santas. Please, sing a Christmas song…it’s my Christmas wish,” one of the kids asked with wishful eyes towards the three fake Santas.

“Geesh, kid, that’s unfair,” Shaw said under her breath. Then the song popped her in head; the infuriating earworm that had been plaguing her all day because of Root and her beyond annoying toy that she had given to Bear. Shaw was going to destroy that toy and the woman who purchased it.

“Okay, kid. Okay,” Shaw sighed heavily, with Reese and Fusco turning to look at her. The smallest Santa started off humming then punched both of the other Santas in their arms to get them to join in. 

♫“Christmas, Christmas time is near” ♫ Shaw sang lowly while Fusco and Reese looked on with a mix of horror and confusion. Thankfully, Fusco caught on quickly and the horror on his face melted into an expression of admiration and love directed at his petite, most of the time angry female teammate.

Fusco joined in on the next line loudly and with a lot of gusto. 

♫“Time for toys and time for cheer”♫ 

Fusco’s booming voice got the children starting to bounce up and down with glee as they were being serenaded by three Santa Clauses. Reese looked on with a mild grimace then shrugged and joined in, surprising both Fusco and Shaw by knowing the lyrics.

♫“We’ve been good, but we can’t last”♫ 

All three Santas now sang together, mostly in tune but largely off key.

♫“Hurry Christmas, hurry fast”♫ 

Fusco being in the middle put his arms around Reese and Shaw’s shoulders and started swaying, pulling his two teammates with him. Shaw clenched her fist, fighting the urge to shove his arm off her shoulder and twist it behind his back.

♫“Want a plane that loops the loop”♫ 

All three Santas sang, then Fusco and Reese turned to Shaw with expectant eyes.

The smallest Santa rolled her own eyes then sang very loudly and in her highest voice possible - ♫“Me, I want a huuuulaaa hoooooop”♫ 

Thankfully the fake beard concealed the massive scowl Shaw had on her face, she completely blamed Root for this. She wouldn’t be surprised if it was the hacker who put the kids up to this anyway. And that damn toy was a plant, she wouldn’t put anything pass the ingenious hacker. 

♫“We can hardly stand the wait. Please, Christmas don’t be late”♫ 

Fusco continued his swaying, with total disregard of the stiffness of his fellow Santas.

Suddenly, music perfectly synchronized to the song’s interlude filled the area. Root dressed as an elf bounced in from around the corner with a big red bag slung over her good shoulder, blasting the musical interlude on her phone. Obviously, the Machine was helping to synchronize the song to the Santas singing. Harold appeared behind Root looking like he wanted to be anywhere else on the planet, thankfully the beard and the big Barb glasses hid most of his trepidation and anxiety. 

Since there was music now, Fusco started doing a little dance and encouraged his teammates do so as well. It didn’t turn out so much as dancing as like a Three Stooges routine, with awkward shuffling from the bulky costumes. He then walked over to the kids during the musical interlude of the song and gave them high fives. 

“Aren’t you a little tall to be an elf?” Shaw asked Root through her beard as the hacker stood in front of her. 

“No! She’s like Buddy! Do you know Buddy?” asked an excited child at Root, while giving the short Santa the stink-eye.

“I do,” Root walked over to the kid, “Buddy wishes everyone a Merry Christmas with tons of spaghetti and chocolate syrup with sprinkles.” She took the big red bag she was carrying over her shoulder and handed it to Reese. He opened the bag and looked at all the presents with name tags. 

“Uh ho ho ho, is there a Tommy here?” Asked Santa Reese. One little boy’s face lit up and he raised his arm with a big smile. Santa Reese shuffled over and handed the present to the little kid and patted his head. 

Fusco and Shaw pitched in giving out the presents. The kids swayed in their seats and giggled. 

Shaw did wonder how Root had a bag of marked gifts specific for each kid. 

When the musical interlude was almost over, Root walked over to the Santas, “Okay, fellas get ready,” Root couldn’t resist taking the Dave line from the Chipmunk song. She turned to face Santa Reese, “That was very good Simon.” The three Santas all turned to each other confused. She then turned to Fusco, “Very good Theodore,” Fusco chuckled back to the hacker and his other Santa chipmunks. Root then walked over to stand in front of Shaw, “Alvin, you were a little flat,” the hacker leaned in with a smirk and continued with glee, “Watch it.” Root took a few strands of the fake beard and twirled them in between her fingers while Shaw looked up at her with wide eyes then said under her breath for none of the kids or boys to hear, “You better watch it later.” 

Shaw wanted to yank the silly ass elf hat off Root’s head and shove it down her throat. However, she heard loud giggles coming from the kids and she couldn’t help a small smile that tugged at her lips.

The three Santas started singing again, ♫“Want a plane that loops the loop”♫

Root looked at Shaw with huge puppy dog excited eyes, to which the petite Santa sighed heavily and mumbled under breath, “Oh, for god’s sake.”

♫“I still want a huuuuulaaa hoooop”♫ Santa Shaw belted out very loudly once again in her best high pitched voice, which drove the kids into mild hysterics with giggling. And a super wattage glowing smile from her female teammate, with some giggles thrown in too. The tall, lanky elf continued to watch with the small Santa with the most adoring eyes, then moved over and smiled affectionately at the rest of the Santas. 

Then Reese, Fusco, Root and even Harold joined in again for the chorus - ♫“We can hardly stand the wait. Please, Christmas don’t be late. We can hardly stand the wait. Please, Christmas don’t be late.”♫

Elf Root and the kids cheered and smiled as all the Santas finished their song. 

“Very good boys,” Root said to the Santas with a non-wink specifically to Shaw.

“Let’s sing it again!” Fusco cheered and then the kids did as well.

“Yeah, let’s sing it again!” Root joined in with more cheering. 

“No,” Shaw and Reese said at the same time, as they both turned on their heels to walk away but not before waving to the kids with a few ‘Ho Ho Ho’s throw in. 

All the kids were cheering and smiling at the Santas as they walked away out of sight. 

“I’m not Alvin. If anything Root is Alvin,” Shaw said as she lowered her beard briefly now that they were out of sight of the kids. 

“I Agree. Ms. Groves does share similar mischievous qualities as that certain renegade chipmunk,” Finch said, mildly surprising the rest of the team with his view on the pop culture reference, to which Root just smirked harder. 

"Fusco is definitely Theodore,” said Shaw as she put her beard back into place. 

"Agree,” Reese, Root and Finch all said at the same time. 

"Hey, are you guys just saying that because of my belly?" asked Fusco with a scrunched face.

"So Harry and John, are either Dave or Simon?" asked Root as they got further down the hallway. 

"It's pretty obviously that Glasses is Simon,” added Fusco. 

“Okay, now can we get out of these ridiculous suits? Before we have to commandeer a sleigh and reindeer or something,” Shaw grumbled out under her fake beard. 

“Not yet, sweetie. Y’all start making your way back to the subway, I’ll catch up.” Root Elf smiled as she straightened Shaw’s Santa hat to which her hands were swatted away, “The Machine and I have to finish up something.” And with that, Root walked off jingling all the way in her elf shoes down the hospital hallway. 

******

As the four Santas left the hospital they were instructed to pick up four more bags of presents at a 24/7 mail office type store. They got instructions along the way from the Machine on where to drop off the presents. There were various homeless people along the way living on the streets and another orphanage. When all the bags were empty, the four Santas continued walking through Times Square. Needless to say, they were not the only Santas in Times Square on Christmas Eve, still they stood out. The city was abuzz with Christmas lights and feels while snow started to fall. 

Christmas celebrations were going on in all pockets of Times Square with lots of cheering from a growing crowd gathered up watching the big jumbotron screen broadcasting news reports.

There were sound bites coming from many different news outlets; Shaw, Finch, Reese and Fusco heard bits of as they kept moving past the spectacle that is Times Square: ‘Santa and the Mysterious Gifts’ - ‘Homeless shelters and orphanages all over the world have gotten bags and bags of gifts dropped off throughout Christmas Eve’ - ‘The gifts are being delivered by Santa or elves personally addressed to millions of people spanning the entire globe’ - ‘Is there really a Santa Claus?’ 

They walked past a man dressed in a grungy, dirty long sleeved onesie pajama ensemble resembling a reindeer that included a hoodie with antlers. He was yelling mostly incoherent ramblings, but one stood out - ‘Santa is alive, bitches!’

Shaw did her best to ignore the yelling reindeer man and bypass people in the dense crowd; she dodged several bystanders and many people dressed up in Christmas attire from too many ugly sweaters to elves and just way too many Santas. Amongst the Santas there was one Frosty the Snowman, who tapped Shaw on the back as she walked by.

“Watch it Frosty,” Shaw snapped back, not caring it was a beloved Christmas character for children. For all she knew it was a creepy guy in a suit. Shaw kept walking, she looked back and Frosty was following her down the street. “Frosty, you’re about to become a puddle.”

Frosty came closer to Shaw who turned around quickly and punched the beloved snowman in his snow belly, causing Frosty the snowman to topple over into a heap of a trash on the sidewalk 

“Hey, that short Santa just attacked Frosty the snowman!” someone yelled, getting more people’s attention.

“You gotta a problem with Frosty?” asked a very tall, muscular guy aggressively towards Shaw Santa, who just smirked in return under her white beard.

“Move along, this doesn’t concern you,” Shaw said through her fake white beard while another two guys and woman joined in the discussion while glaring at her, “...and you really don’t want to spend Christmas in the emergency room, do you?”

Reese, Fusco and Finch turned around and went by Shaw’s side, while also watching Frosty the snowman trying to get up off it’s back like a turtle stuck flailing with it’s stumpy pillow stuffed arms. Fusco reached out and pulled Frosty back up to a standing position.

“What did short Santa say?”

Suddenly, Frosty moved in between the guys and the short Santa, then spoke through its big stuffed head, “She’s right, I don’t think you really want to spend Christmas with stitches.”

Shaw recognized that voice even if it was muffled by the big stuffed Frosty head piece. Root. She rolled her eyes so far back up under her red Santa hat.

Frosty Root then moved closer to Santa Shaw, standing as close as she could with the massive padded snow belly, bumping Shaw with it then she moved she put her big snow stuffed arms around her shoulders.

“Is Frosty coming onto Santa?” asked one guy with a disgusted look on his face.

Then another guy added, “That’s just wrong.” They guys turned on their heels and walked away quickly while shaking their heads. 

“You’re right Shaw, I’m puddle when I look at you,” said Frosty Root in her most seductive tone while dressed in the snowman costume.

“Nutcracker, is that you?” asked Santa Fusco with a confused look on his face. 

“I was hoping Frosty would be a big hit like Mr. Bearstein, but I didn’t mean literally,” Root said as she rubbed her jolly snowman belly where Shaw had punched her. 

Shaw glared at Root and walked off down the street with the other Santas and Frosty following behind her. 

******

When all four Santas and one Frosty the Snowman finally made it back to the subway station after getting many cheers from people on the street and quite a few comments, they were happy to get changed back into their own clothes.

“What a day,” Fusco said while slipping back on his stained tie and suit jacket. “It’s been kinda fun, especially since this year Lee is spending Christmas with his mom.” His teammates smiled at him, well except for Shaw who was already busy cleaning her gun.

Suddenly, there was a succession of beeps from the monitors. Harold went over and talked to the Machine. “The Machine says she has some Christmas gifts for us,” said Harold mildly confused by the message.

Root took her cue. “Yes, she does.” The hacker stood up from where she had been sitting watching Shaw clean her gun. She went to other side of the subway car where supplies were stored and came back with a few small packages and one bigger one. “I don’t know what they are; this was all the Machine’s doing,” said Root as she handed out the presents to her teammates. “I’m just the elf.”

Reese’s gift was the largest, with much smaller gifts for rest of the team. They all looked at each other before tearing into their presents like little kids on Christmas morning, except for Harold who took off his wrapping paper slowly.

Fusco opened up his long slender box to reveal two season ticket passes to the New York Rangers, his face lit up. “Ranger season tickets! Lee is going to be so excited.”

Reese looked at his big, long, thick present; he opened it up revealing four black, very expensive suits with four pristine white shirts. “I was getting low,” the tall male primary asset had a genuine smile on his face.

Shaw cautiously opened her slightly heavy box. In the box was a bottle of her favorite top shelf scotch, a bag of steak jerky and a letter instructing her that she had private gun range time anytime she requested and to be accompanied by the highest caliber steaks to be delivered during her practice. And one Analog Interface was forbidden to interrupt this solo time, the Machine would see to this instruction personally. “Gotta admit, the Machine’s got good taste,” Shaw said while lifting up the bottle to examine it and tearing into the steak jerky.

Harold finally finished unwrapping his gift, opened the box revealing a first edition copy of Jane Austen’s ‘Sense & Sensibility’; the Machine knowing he gave his only copy to Grace. Harold seemed to hold back a tear while putting the book back in the box. He looked up at Root who didn’t seem to have a present. “Ms. Groves, where is your present?”

“Oh Harry, the Machine already gave me a present,” Root smiled a little mischievously with a head tilt to her somewhat mentor, friend and comrade.

“I think this is cause for a celebration. It is Christmas after all,” Harold walked over to a cabinet bringing five glasses and a bottle of bourbon. He filled four of the glasses with the bourbon and one with club soda, handing one to each of his teammates.

The teammates talked and drank for a little while, reliving their hectic day.

When Shaw got up to put away her gun cleaning supplies, Root came up behind her. “I got you something for Christmas, Sameen. Did a little last minute shopping,” Root leaned into Shaw while the guys were distracted by their own gifts and still talking, “Do you want to go get it?” 

Shaw raised her eyebrows in a knowing gesture, “Root, we’re going to do that later anyway.”

Root couldn’t help a huge smile that spread across her face, then added in a husky voice, “Good to know, but this is something that is a bit time sensitive.”

“You’re always time sensitive,” Shaw snorted.

Harold then came over and brought Root over to his desk to discuss a project they were working on together. Fusco then walked over to Shaw and watched her watch Nutcracker talk with Glasses.

“Hey, Shaw since it’s Christmas, and according to that one movie you’re supposed to tell the truth at Christmas…so is Coco Puffs your girlfriend?” The detective looked at his female teammate with a truly inquisitive expression who gave him back a cold glare, blank face.

“Goodnight, Lionel,” Shaw rolled her eyes as she walked away from Fusco to the exit of the subway. When she noticed that Root wasn’t following behind her, she sighed and walked back to Harold’s desk.

Root got caught up talking to Harold about some coding project, looking over at monitors on his desk. Shaw came to stand next to Root, feigning interest in Harold talking so she could discreetly yank on the hacker’s leather jacket to get her moving faster, which didn’t go unnoticed by Fusco. Shaw immediately let go of Root’s jacket like she had been stung. The detective winked at Shaw and mouthed ‘Merry Christmas’ which got him an epic side eye from the petite primary asset.

******

“This better be good, nerd,” said Shaw when they reached the street level and saw that snow was falling down heavily, blanketing the city. Root just smiled at her as they bundled up their jackets and started walking towards Central Park.

It was snowing pretty hard which was pretty unusual for Christmas time in New York. As soon as they walked a bit into the park, Root guided them to a hidden spot by a bridge where something big had a large camouflaged tarp covering it. Root then pulled the tarp off revealing a hybrid old-fashioned sleigh morphed into a snowmobile.

“What the hell is that?”

“Your present is a little further out in the park. I thought this might be more fun than trudging through the snow,” Root bit her lip as she looked at Shaw, then swung her leg over the seat, sat down and revved up the engine. “Hop on, Shaw.”

“So my present is out in the middle of the park? It better be gang war that we get to stop, or something that involves lots of gunfire,” Shaw shook her head while staring hard at Root.

“And skull cracking for stocking stuffers, you were very good this year,” Root smiled up at Shaw with her big eyes that looked particularly mesmerizing in the Christmas moonlight.

Shaw got on behind Root and surprised the hacker by actually holding onto her waist. “It’s cold, nerd.” Root then pulled Shaw’s arms completely around her torso bringing their bodies fully pressed up against each other.

“I love it when you play big spoon,” Root couldn’t help saying, having Shaw’s arms around her made her feel like an army of butterflies were storming her stomach. She tilted her head back, which allowed Shaw to press her nose against her neck.

“Get going, it’s cold…” Shaw whispered with half her face buried in Root’s hair, “…so we can warm each other up indoors.” The petite primary asset pushed her hips harder, grinding up against the hacker’s ass; which elicited a quiet moan from Root.

“Are you stealing my line?”

Root took off fast heading further into the park. After a few minutes, she stopped the snowmobile sleigh and hopped off with Shaw following. Root walked for about a full minute into a thick tree area until they came upon her gift to Shaw.

There, tied to a tree in only his underwear and wearing a red Santa hat was Thomas Falcone, clearly freezing his butt off and presumably swearing up a storm under the duct tape covering his mouth.

“There’s your present,” Root gave a somewhat evil smile. She tilted her head and regarded the struggling crime boss. “I was going to gift wrap him but I couldn’t find the right bow.”

Shaw returned a cocky smile as she walked over to where Falcone was tied up. 

“My present is that I get to watch,” Root said as she leaned up against a tree. She took a candy cane from her pocket, stuck it in her mouth and started sucking on it while grinning and watching Shaw go hammer time all over Falcone’s wimpy ass. 

******

After Shaw taught Falcone some good anti-bullying lessons with her fists, Root called the police to pick him up in the park and haul him off to jail.

It was officially Christmas Day now as they walked back to Shaw’s apartment down the mostly empty streets.

Root had a thoughtful look on her face. “So, do compact Persian sociopaths have favorite Christmas songs?” she asked as they walked quickly through the snow, teeth chattering from the cold.

“What are you doing New Year’s Eve?” Shaw responded quickly without really thinking. Big mistake.

“Thought you would never ask,” Root’s face lit up and she grabbed Shaw’s arm, looping her arm through it.

“No, that’s my favorite Christmas song,” Shaw said while leaving her arm entwined with Root’s, when she noticed the smug smile she added, “It’s freezing.” Root gripped Shaw’s arm tighter and walked even closer if that was possible.

“It’s not really a traditional Christmas song,” Root stared at Shaw, leaving the thought hanging open if the petite primary asset wanted to elaborate. 

Shaw looked off in the distance as they continued walking with the snow drifting down, feeling the warmth of Root’s arm wrapped around her arm spreading throughout her whole body. “My father used to sing it to my mother, there are a newer versions but there’s nothing like the original.”

Root saw the contemplative look on Shaw’s face, “Would you dance with me?” asked Root softly, “The Machine could play the song for us.”

Shaw looked at Root like she was crazier than usual, "Hell no. We're not in some cheesy Hallmark Christmas movie where you can just cram in a dancing scene, Root."

"How would you know? Wait a minute - you watch Hallmark Christmas movies?!" asked a very surprised Root. 

"No! ...just that one movie,” Shaw sheepishly and begrudgingly admitted to a beyond delighted Root. 

"Which one?" asked Root who looked at Shaw anxiously, very intrigued on what type of cheesy cornball movie would hold her grumpy asset’s attention for any length of time. 

"The one with the ballerina. I watched it when I was bored and you were out doing some side mission for the Machine." Shaw pulled Root’s arm when the hacker slowed down her pace, momentarily in shock hearing the pop culture revelation. 

Root beamed. "Did you like it?"

Shaw snorted. "No. The girl in the movie was kind of hot, though. Only thing that kept me watching till the end."

"Sameen Shaw! You watched an entire Hallmark Christmas movie from beginning to end for a cute girl? I never would have guessed."

"Shut up, Root." Shaw glared at the hacker annoyed, “Hey, didn’t you say you would break the law sometimes if a girl was cute enough?”

“True, but usually the consequences would be fun things like federal prosecution, gruesome death or life imprisonment not sitting through infomercials for slap chops, shake weights or slankets,” Root brushed her body up against Shaw’s and squeezed her arm tighter as they continued walking, while Shaw gave her the side eye. 

They finally reached Shaw’s apartment building, entering and shaking off snow as they continued on. When they got in front of Shaw’s door a very low but muffled sound of the chipmunk song could be heard playing off in the distance behind the door. 

“I’m stuffing that damn toy down the garbage disposal,” Shaw said while glaring at Root.

“And ruin Bear’s Christmas?” Root said while looking at Shaw with those adoring eyes with an added lip bite, which she secretly knew might have an effect on her petite primary asset.

They both stood awkwardly for a few seconds in front of the door. Root looked confused as to why Shaw wasn’t unlocking and opening her door.

“I got you something too,” Shaw said in a low voice, she reached in her coat pocket and handed Root an envelope; she darted her eyes quickly to Root’s eyes then looked away. For an elite world-renowned assassin, she actually looked somewhat nervous, yet not without a hint of her signature look of annoyance.

Root took the envelope and opened it; there inside was a key. She stood motionless for a few seconds staring at the key with a stunned expression.

“Figured this was cheaper than buying new locks all the time,” Shaw looked up into Root’s heart eyes, and made a motion with her hands to the door. “Hurry up, so I can destroy that irritating toy.”

Root smiled her warmest smile, moved to the door and unlocked it with her own key. As soon as the door was opened, she grabbed onto Shaw’s jacket and pulled her into their apartment, kicking the door shut. She pushed Shaw up against the wall and without pausing pounced on her lips, kissing her fiercely and deeply. Shaw immediately opened her mouth and eagerly retaliated while latching onto Root’s exploring tongue, sucking until she heard her moaning. Then Shaw pushed off Root, tore off her jacket as the hacker did the same. They crashed into each other again, pulling and pushing each other; each placing sloppy kisses all over each other. 

The two continued stripping off their shirts on the way to the bedroom, pausing momentarily to pet Bear and refill his food bowl.

When they got to the bed, Shaw pushed Root roughly down on the mattress, “Are you going to tell me how you and The Machine pulled off the Santa thing?” Shaw moved to straddle Root’s hips. She then moved down on her elbows, trapping Root’s head and leaned in close almost touching the hacker’s face as she talked; lips almost touching, breathing into each other’s mouths.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Root feigned innocence with a smirk. She ran her hands up Shaw’s back and up into her hair, which she tugged hard. “Maybe there really is a Santa Claus, Sameen.” She leaned up and kissed hungrily on Shaw’s neck, sprinkling bite marks along the way.

“I think a super artificial intelligence and a perky psycho giving away millions of gifts is more believable than a mythological borderline creepy philanthropic badly dressed jolly man,” Shaw stared hard into Root’s eyes but only got a sly smile from her hacker. “Who footed the bill? And was hacking into NORAD really necessary for the charade?”

Root paused and looked up into Shaw’s eyes with a sincere look on her face. She stilled for a few more seconds and looked serious. “What if we paint...our...bedroom purple?” Root then bit down hard on Shaw’s neck which momentarily got the petite primary asset distracted as a loud moan escaped her throat. 

“No,” Shaw moved so she could bring up Root’s arms over her head and clasp both of them together in a tight hold. “You’re going to answer my questions, or we are moving into a full interrogation.” Shaw reached behind her and then brought the handcuffs from earlier in the day, very quickly she grabbed Root’s wrists, slid the metal around them and clicked. “If you don’t come clean during the interrogation, you won’t be coming at all.” 

“You say interrogation, I say foreplay,” Root smiled up at Shaw, looking like an excited puppy getting a treat.


End file.
